Subject to Change
by LilyPotter
Summary: Voldemort rises again, theres only one person who can stop him. But Gryffindors heir is a fifteen year old boy with no training as an auror. Only the parents can train one so young. This boy's parents are dead Can they change the past to save the future?
1. The rise of Lord Voldemort

Title: Subject To Change

Author: Lily Potter

A/N: A Sirius affair needs to be postponed until I can figure out what to do with it. The characters refuse to cooperate until they know what I know what I want to do. Until then…this will have to do.

Sirius Black stood by the front of a flat, exhausted. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and a single thread of saliva hung from the loose tongue, until it snapped, and hit the soggy tarmac. The tarmac outside the flat was normally soggy; it was London, after all. If Sirius had been a human at present, he would have probably not blended in at all with his surroundings, in which people scurried about like rats in the rain, with the collars of their coats turned up and their Wellington boots squelching through the streets. 

            Sirius, in his tattered wizarding robes, would probably have fitted in as much as a hothouse flower in a bag of coal, but Sirius was a great black dog, and the people who hurried along merely saw him as a stray, scrounging about for a bit of food, if they saw him at all.

            Sirius began to scrounge about for a bit of something in the dustbins, which were in the alley next to the flat. The main thing that could be found in his canine mind was the thought of food, or lack thereof. However, somewhere in his mind, Sirius sensed that he had something important to do; something that had to do with this flat. He dug a little deeper into the bin and pondered the problem. Ah Ha! He spotted a chicken bone and nicked it before anyone could snatch it away. Sirius thought some more as he gnawed on the bone. What did he need to do?

            Remus. The thought clicked. He needed to talk to Remus. Who lived in the flat. The more sensible part of his mind took over. Remus lived on the third floor of the flat. How could he get in?

            He spotted a lady walking several dogs who was heading toward the flat. Abandoning his bone, Sirius followed the lady and stayed close enough to be mistaken for one of her dogs, but not enough to be noticed by the woman. The woman and her dogs headed to a lift, and Sirius followed. The other dogs, (most of them small, and one Cocker Spaniel who's yip sounded annoyingly like nails on a chalkboard,) seemed to take not notice of the intruder, sensing that he wasn't a real dog; and thankfully didn't bark long, except for that Cocker Spaniel. As luck would have it, the woman went to the third floor, and Sirius went in one direction, as the woman with the highly irritating dogs went in the other.

            Finding Remus was not difficult; Sirius could follow wherever Remus had gone. It was the fact that Remus had gone so many places on the bloody third floor that following his trail was well nigh impossible. Sirius' nerves grew increasingly edgy as he circled one way, then another. Finally, he reached a flat that had the Moony-smell permeating through it. He scratched on the door of the flat.

            "I DON'T WANT ANY!" came the highly irritated reply. Sirius persistently scratched again.

            "I told you," said Remus, unlocking the door and opening it, "I don't like cosmetics, I don't wear cosmetics, cosmetics would not suit me in the least, and if you call on me again I'm phoning…" He stopped short in the middle of his rampage and looked down. "Oh…"

            Sirius wagged his tail in greeting and tried to squeeze through the door. Remus, realising that the great black dog could not fit through the door as his own personage occupied it, moved. Sirius wagged his tail once more obligingly, and went through. Remus followed.

            What he found in the kitchen of his house was not a great black dog, but a tall, thin, gaunt man, whose matted hair hung in elflocks about his face. This tall thin gaunt man also appeared very wet, and rather smelly. 

            "Remus I need to talk to you," said the man, shaking out his hair in the manner of a dog, and spraying the kitchen with water.

            "I think a shower would be in order first," said Remus pointedly. "Sirius, you smell like a wet dog."

            "You would too if you had run from Scotland to England in the rain for three weeks," said Sirius looking vaguely annoyed. "Listen," he said, trying to untangle some of his matted hair, and only succeeding in tangling it further. "I've just come from Hogwarts, Voldemort has just risen to power and…"

            "I think a shower first," said Remus, pinching his nostrils together with his fingers and shoving Sirius towards the bathroom.

A/N: I apologise that this took so long to get back. I had accidentally deleted it, and had to get a copy from my friend. (I'm a bit thick sometimes…that's all.)

  
  


  
  



	2. Moony's house

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. Trying to devote myself to three stories AND a bootleg Harry Potter tape is quite hard. But I'm trying the best I can.

      Voldemort? Risen again? Had Sirius been delirious? Remus wondered. It just wasn't possible for Voldemort to have risen again. He needed to hear the whole story. Quickly. However, Sirius was prone to taking an immense amount of time in the bathroom, because, as he so interestingly put it, 

"I was a dog from fifth year on. And dogs hate baths. Therefore, it takes me more time to screw up my courage to take a bath, then it would to screw up my courage to battle Voldemort."

Remus was not quite sure he completely understood this train of thought, but then again, he never completely understood Sirius, either. It all balanced out in the end. Oh…he just hope he had heard Sirius wrong…

~**~

      Sirius was having a bit of trouble in the bathroom. Making himself presentable was never the easiest of jobs, even under the best of circumstances. He always resembled in a way, what he was. A dog. Which is why he was often object to be cuddled. And why all the girls at Hogwarts could never keep their own paws to themselves. Not that Sirius really minded all that much…

He went through three razors and a comb, before he came to the intelligent conclusion that perhaps he should cut his beard before attempting to shave. Which worked just fine, and Sirius didn't kill himself…just got a few cuts. All over his face. He broke the scissors while trying to cut his own hair, and then decided that it was time to go downstairs, and have Moony do it. He was much better at that kind of thing anyway.

~**~

Remus took one look at Sirius, and had to sit back down in a chair, he was rendered so completely helpless by laughing. 

      "What?" Said Sirius indignantly, feeling his face. "What's wrong?"

      "I…I…I…Never thought…" a short burst of laughter, "That you could…look any worse…than…" More laughter, "you did when…you came in…but…good lord Sirius, what did you… use to shave with…a lawnmower?" Hysterical laughter. Remus fell out of the chair. 

      "No, three of your razors, actually, and a pair of scissors, all of which are broken." Said Sirius grumpily sitting down in the chair that Remus had fallen out of, and staring at him, who was still lying prone on the floor. "And you can get up now…instead of grovelling on the floor."

      "You're one to talk," said Remus between laughs. "Who was the one, in dog form, rolling about on the floor looking for dropped crumbs?"

      "At least I was a dog then, not a human," said Sirius shortly.

      "You look better as a dog, then," said Remus, straitening up. 

      "Sod off, Moony," Said Sirius. The smile was wiped off Remus's face as he stood up. 

      "Sirius, what's this about the Dark Lord rising? Is it true? I don't…"

      "Yes, it's true," Sirius sighed. "The minister won't believe it, and Harry…at the Tri-wizard tournament, Harry fought Voldemort. That's right, duelled with him, and came out alive, no one knows how. And now Dumbledore…well…there's a whole story to it, but Harry, apparently, is the only one who can kill Voldemort…and so he needs to be trained as an auror. But…because he is only 15…"

      "That's not possible. Only someone's parents can train an auror at 15. And Lily and James are, well, just about as dead as you can be, Sirius."

      "I KNOW!" Sirius shouted. "I never wanted Harry to do this. I wanted him to have a normal school year…like we had…"

      "Getting 6,809 detentions while at Hogwarts is not considered normal, Sirius." Sirius allowed himself a grin.

      "I realize THAT. But do you know, for three of the four years that Harry has had at Hogwarts, he's encountered Voldemort, and during the one year that he didn't he encountered Peter instead, which is almost worse."

      "Not quite."

      "All right, not quite as bad. But…oh…he needs some peace, Remus, especially to get over this school year. A student died during the tournament, Harry is blaming himself…what the boy really needs is a good muggle physiologist."

      "I can just see that session. 'Voldemort killed my friend and parents…' it would scar the poor doctor for years." Said Remus.

      "Well, anyway, Dumbledore wants us to go up and talk to him, then gather the 'old crowd.' I think he wants to tell us the entire story."

      "All right then," said Remus, "come on, Snuffles, you don't have a wand, no Apparation for you…" He grabbed a leash that was hung up on a hook by the door.

      "What a revolting development," said Sirius, changing into a dog.


	3. Of andcromancers, mages, and lorria auro...

A/N: Ahhh…Christmas Holidays…what would we do without them? I wouldn't be cranking out storeys at this rate, I can tell you that much…

Disclaimer: I realise that I haven't done a disclaimer in ages. Therefore: ahem. All of Harry Potter and everything related to Harry Potter is all J.K. Rowling's. However, all proceeds will go to the Gilderoy Lockhart Odkins Old Firewhiskey fund.

            "Hello Sirius, Remus," Professor Dumbledore, (no matter how hard he tried, Sirius could never NOT call him "Professor," perhaps because of all the times he was called up on the carpet.) Dumbledore had seemed just as amused as Remus about the leash that Sirius was forced to wear, stating:

            "That's a good look for you, Sirius," He said, chortling a bit, before he became unusually grave.

            "The reason why I called you here was to discuss Harry. We know that he has been battling Voldemort for quite some time now, but we never knew why he managed to come out alive. In his second year, Harry pulled this out of the Sorting Hat." Dumbledore held up a ruby encrusted sword. "This was Godric Gryffindor's," he said, displaying the handle. "You see, every two generations, there is an heir to Gryffindor. And every two generations, there is an heir to Slytherin. Because Slytherin and Gryffindor were mortal enemies, the two heirs cannot live together. One _must_ kill the other. The heir to Gryffindor usually symbolizes everything good; he is normally an andcromancer, a mage, and a lorria auror. The heir to Slytherin usually symbolizes everything bad, he is normally a necromancer, dark mage, and a dark lord."

            "Hold on, back up a moment, Professor. What exactly _are_ those things?" Asked Sirius, who had a slight feeling, he knew where the conversation was leading.

            "An andcromancer is the opposite of a necromancer. While a necromancer raises the dead, binds them to himself, and makes them slaves, the andcromancer finds those slaves, who have human countenances, but no human consciences, and helps them go back into death, purgatory, hell, or heaven, wherever they were before."

            "Hold on, are you saying that the andcromancer and necromancer can go to heaven, hell, or…wherever, and raise dead from there or put them back? I mean, if you were in Hell, wouldn't it be preferable to be a slave? If you're that evil, and Hell is all fire and brimstone anyway…"

            "Yes, Sirius, but, to my knowledge, there are only two people residing in Hell at the moment, and they were bound to powerfully to ever get out to be made slaves. One is a muggle. But he had powerful witchcraft behind him, and so his wizard is down there too."

            "Who are down there?" asked Remus interestedly.

            "The muggle Hitler, and the Dark wizard Grindawald. Hopefully, Voldemort will be bound down there too, if we can do our jobs. Now, you both know that a mage is one of the most powerful beings on the planet. There are only a few of them…"

            "James was one," Sirius interrupted, "That's why Voldemort was after his family."

            "Yes, believe it or not, so was Lily," said Dumbledore, nodding. "So Harry is more powerful than either of his parents ever were, because of the accumulation of forces. He just doesn't know it. But, for instance, in his third year, he blew up his aunt. It was not a simple engorgement charm, like the ministry of magic first thought, because that would make the aunt large. It was an aerohiliomation charm, one that not only enlarged her, but blew her up like a balloon, and made her float toward the ceiling, if you can imagine. Not many wizards could pull that off in the height of their powers, much less as untrained third years. A lorria auror is a very powerful auror, normally the only kind to be able to kill a dark lord…"

            "And Harry is…he's Gryffindor's heir, isn't he?" asked Sirius faintly. "And all I wanted for him was a nice, quiet fifth year…"

            "You're another Gryffindor heir, aren't you, professor?" Asked Remus. "You killed Grindiwald, and if he's in Hell…You must be related to Harry, then, aren't you?"

            Dumbledore merely looked at him, and Remus stopped his line of questioning at once.

            "Yes, Harry is Gryffindor's heir, and he must be trained at once as an auror, or else there is no hope for the rest of us. We can't hold him off much longer, as we could when Harry was a baby…because when Harry comes of age this year…"

            "Comes of age?" Asked Sirius, "the boy is fifteen."

            "Yes," Said Dumbledore, sitting back in his chair, ready with another long explanation. "You see, in the time of the founders, both in muggles and in wizards, when you were fifteen you began to train as a knight, whether magical or not. I don't know why this has been remembered, when so much has been forgotten, but at fifteen, you are supposed to be considered a full mage, if you are one, and you are no longer protected. You see, Voldemort, knowing that Harry was an heir, tried to kill him off as a baby. Because Harry was not in his full powers yet, it invoked a kind of high magic, which made the curse rebound upon Voldemort. Lily herself kept Harry from going into a coma by trying to shield him from Voldemort. Voldemort, in a moment of stupidity, forgot all this, and lost everything, every time he tried to kill Harry, the plan would not succeed, and he could not rise to power. However, because Harry was so close to his fifteenth last year, it allowed Voldemort to rise, but not to kill Harry.  When he turns fifteen…"

            It's open season on Harry, isn't it?" Sirius asked, "Every faithful and not so faithful follower of Voldemort will be trying to kill him, including Voldemort himself. Well this puts him in a bloody difficult position, doesn't it?"

            "Yes," Said Dumbledore, "Which is why it is imperative that we get him safely to Hogwarts, and get him trained as an auror immediately."

            "But Professor, Harry can't be trained this young unless his parents do the training…and…well…" Said Sirius, "it's impossible."

            "Oh, I assure you, it is not," said Dumbledore, "We will be breaking about every law the ministry of magic has, doing this…but…it's the only chance we've got." He pulled out three-hour glasses, one large, one medium sized, and one small.

            "Time turners," breathed Remus, looking at them.

            "Yes, but not any type of time turners. This," he picked up the large one, "is a time twirler, the medium one is a time turner, and the smallest is a time tweaker. The largest goes back years, the middle hours, and the smallest minutes. To make sure that you don't abuse these, tempting although it may seem, you will also have a guide with you. Ad Adversarius?" A small, slightly hairy looking human emerged through a door.

            "Is that…a hobbit?" Asked Remus.

            "Yes, they specialise in time. Adversarius happens to be a certain Frodo Baggins' friend. He has agreed to help you finding Lily and James, and training Harry. Now then, off you go." Sirius and Remus looked from the time turners to the hobbit, then back again.

            "Thank you, Professor," Said Sirius. "This means more to us then you will ever know."

A/N: Sorry about such a long boring chapter. Lily and James come back in the next one, and then the fun begins. This is basically an explaining thing


	4. Hello, Prongs.

A/N: Back in school…oh the horror. I do wish that I had the rest of the year off…but…I guess not. 

                        Harry Potter lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was four in the morning, and he should probably be getting up. But he didn't really want to get up, for the chief reason that it was still dark out, and one didn't really want to run in the dark, because it led to all sorts of complicated things, such as running into trees and telephone polls. But that was what Harry had been doing all summer. Running. To get away from the Dursley's as much as possible, Harry had decided to go on as many daily runs as was possible, all around Privet Drive, and through Little Whinging. And, he reasoned, it was probably good training for Quiddtich, so if he couldn't practise on his broom, at least he could be in shape for the coming season. 

As luck would have it, Harry did not have to force himself to go for a run this morning, although he was forced to get out bed. For, at four in the morning, an owl scratched at his window. It was unusually early for any Hogwarts owl to be coming to Privet Drive, as it was only the end of June. Harry hauled himself out of bed, tripped over a pair of trainers, (which had been left on the floor,) a spell book, (also left on the floor,) a picture of Snape that Ron had sent to him as a joke, which had written on it, "Since I _know_ you miss him so much, I decided to send this to you." The picture was magically enchanted to blow kisses. (Why he could ever think that that was funny, Harry would never know.) He finally reached the window, and decided, as he lifted the sash, to clean his room before Aunt Petunia saw it and fainted. "Not," he thought, "that that would be a bad thing…" 

It was a Hogwarts owl, Harry could tell immediately, because it was extremely important looking, and preened itself as Harry untied the letter from its leg. The letter was not the standard Hogwarts letter of the past, but something quite different. In the long, elegant handwriting that Harry remembered so well as the writing on the note with the invisibility cloak, the letter simply stated:

_Dear Harry,_

_You must come to Hogwarts immediately. This is a matter of greatest importance, and also of greatest urgency and secrecy. Do not tell anyone of your departure. Hagrid will come to pick you up today. Please be ready. Use your wand to burn this letter after reading it._

_Sincerely,_

_            Professor Dumbledore._

Harry, surprised at being told to do magic by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, burned the letter quickly, and began to throw anything and everything into his trunk, which the Dursley's didn't know was upstairs. Harry mentally thanked Fred and George again for teaching him how to pick a lock with a hairpin. 

~**~

            Remus, Sirius and Ad, (which he insisted on being called,) landed with a muffled _thump_ in a spot that they had apperated to only minutes before, except now the spot they were in was about fourteen years younger. It was right outside of Godric's Hollow, and…

            "Dear God," said Sirius suddenly, "Moony, we've been blind."

            "We have? I was under the impression that, although dogs have very bad eyes, wolves have very good ones."

            "No, that's not what I meant. _Godric's Hollow_. Lily and James used to live…"

            "Do live. They're about a mile away, at the present time."

            "Oh, whatever. Lily and James _live_ in a very large manor house. Very large, and very old. And they live in Godric's Hollow. Godric Gryffindor. In an old house that has been passed down from generation to generation, probably since the time of the founders. Of _course_ Harry's related. And, I guarantee, so is James, except that James wasn't an heir, because it's only every two generations…so he was only a mage…"

            "You're right, Sirius, we have been blind. Completely, totally, and utterly blind…" Said Remus, looking startled at this new piece of information. 

            All three stopped short, as they stared Lily and James' house, completely intact, with living occupants inside. Not in pieces, as Sirius had last seen it. Not with the bodies of his best friends…

            The continued on, and reached the door. Sirius looked around at Remus and Ad, shrugged, as if it meant nothing to him, and then knocked on the door. There was a moment's pause, then…

            "Hello Padfoot! Moony too! I wasn't expecting you tonight!"

            A tall, lanky man had opened the door. James Potter, looking exactly as Sirius remembered him from fourteen years ago. 

A/N:I have to end it there. I need to do homework. Grr…


	5. Of Dead Friends and Dreams

A/n: Yet again, I'm terribly sorry for the delay. In my theatre program, I happen to be in the wonderful week fondly known as "tec week" in which we stay up until…oh I'd say…midnight to run the show, and then go to school the next day. So, basically, I've been half dead the entire week, and have only lived on strong cups of coffee. But, here's the next chapter.

          Sirius and Remus stepped into the house they knew so well, but they had half forgotten, as if they had dreamed it vividly one night, then forgot most of the dream the next morning. Remus stared as if in a daze, and Sirius felt the sudden need to sit down. Hard. 

          "Why didn't you owl me that you were coming?" Sirius broke out of his daze as James spoke. "Lily hasn't gone shopping…there's no food in the house…" He broke off, as he looked at them in the proper light. "Sirius…what have you been eating? Or maybe I should say, what haven't you been eating?" He took in Sirius' haggard form for a minute. "You didn't look like this yesterday…have you been doing battle with Voldemort again?" he jokingly asked.

          Sirius gave a wan smile, if only he knew how close to the truth he was. 

          "No," he answered. "Just dementor's this time." James gave him a look, as if not knowing whether to laugh or not, then turned his attention to Remus.

          "Remus…" he tentatively asked, "Did you…try to charm your…your hair or something…it…well…it has grey streaks in it, and it doesn't look the best…"

Remus looked at a strand of his grey streaked hair, and began to laugh.

~**~

          Fourteen years later, Ron Weasley woke up with a start. He was shaking and sweating, and he looked around frantically for his wand, before he had realised it was just a dream. Only a dream. But it had seemed so real…

          Ron, Hermione, and what looked uncannily like Harry's parents, were trapped somehow, trapped by some magical barrier. Someone…Voldemort…Ron knew…he didn't know how, he had never seen him, but never the less, he knew it was Voldemort; stood outside the barrier with…Harry. Harry looked older, though, taller…much taller…no longer a midget in glasses. Hermione looked older too…but somehow, as she gazed apprehensively at Harry, standing there, looked like an eleven year old at Harry's first Quiddtich match. And Voldemort…Ron shuddered to look at him. Eyes red, with pupils like a snake, and a white face, so white, it looked like some sort of travesty of a clown. 

"Well," whispered Voldemort, "I believe the choice is yours to make, Harry."

"Kill me," Harry shouted, "They have done nothing. Let them go, it's me you want. Kill me."

          Which sounded to Ron terribly clichéd, even as he watched, afraid to see his best friend blown to smithereens.

"I'm afraid you don't understand, Harry," said Voldemort, as if talking to a small child. "I do want you, but, I'm afraid, I don't quite wish to kill you anymore. We could do great things together Harry, you and I.  Join me, or watch each one of all who you love die. And it won't be Avada Kedavera, either, my friend, oh no. The dark lord has many more ways of murdering…many more painful ways…but, I shall let your friends and yourself decide. I will allow you to talk with them alone for five minutes…then I shall be back to hear your decision."

To Ron's great relief, he left. Harry turned to face them. 

          "I've got to join him," he said.

This was all wrong. Harry was the one who had dreams about Voldemort, not Ron. He glanced at the clock. It was one in the morning. Still shaking, Ron went back to sleep.

~**~

  
  


A/N: Ending it there. I need sleep even more than Ron does…

  
  



	6. Of the past and present.

A/N: Gah. Long week. Exams and all sorts of fun. But, however…I'm still writing. Slowly, but writing none the less.

          Hagrid had picked Harry up that morning, and, much like when Harry had first arrived at school took the London underground. 

Hagrid looked strangely…closed was the only word Harry could think of. He had cordially smiled, said hello…and yet…there was a strain about him that Harry didn't quite recognise. He really didn't want to mention it, though, and decided on some polite conversation.

          "Did you have a nice time doing…well…whatever you were doing with Madame Maxime this summer?"  (A/N: That was a perfectly clean comment. No nastiness was intended. I meant what Dumbledore wanted Hagrid to do over the summer. Honestly…) 

          Hagrid, who had been staring randomly into space, jumped.

          "Eh?  Oh…yeh, Olympe and I did what we needed to do…yeh know…" He continued to appear as though he had been sitting in Professor Bin's classroom, and began to stare into space again. Harry, giving up on polite conversation, blurted out with,

          "What did you do?"

          "Went someplaces…" said Hagrid vaguely.

          "Hagrid," said Harry finally, in exasperation, "Are you not allowed to tell me something? Does this have anything to do with why you're taking me to Hogwarts early?"

          Hagrid, who was very bad at keeping secrets, and even worse at lying, turned red beneath his beard, and said evasively,

          "It…might be…yeh know all about the giants..O'course…"

          "Giants?"

          Hagrid, looking furious with himself, muttered, "I shouldn't 'ave told you that," Before staring off vacantly again with his mouth firmly closed, as if determined not to reveal anything else. Harry, exasperated, sighed, and leaned against the seat.

~**~

          "James, I'm afraid we have a lot to tell you and Lily, and a very short period of time in which to do it in…" Started Sirius, but he never got to finish.

          "Ad!" James said, noticing the hobbit by the door. "How are you? And Frodo, how is he?"

Sirius jumped. He had forgotten the hobbit, who had been quietly standing there, listening to the entire marauder's exchange, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. The hobbit's face now split into a wide grin.

          "Just fine sir!" He said, quite happily,  "Getting on quite well with his wife and one son at Bag End."  

(A/N: I have been having a very long discussion with my friend about LOTR. Honestly, the one thing Frodo needs is a girlfriend. The bloody ring is gone, and he's depressed. Who wants a depressed main character? I was thinking of "writing" a sequel just to make the poor hobbit happy. A girlfriend would solve everything. However, my friend is going on… "no no…he can't…nothing can take the ring's place…blah blah blah. Frodo needs a girlfriend, and since I'm the author, I say he gets one. Hah.)

James started. 

"What?" he said, "Married and a son? He could have at least told me…" The hobbit turned red. 

"Oh dear," he muttered, under his breath, "this is the wrong year…"

"I think we have some explaining to do," said Remus calmly, "and I think, James, you may want to fetch Lily and sit down."

James gave them all an odd look again and then yelled up the stairs, "LILY DARLING! COME DOWNSTAIRS PLEASE!"

"I hate it when you call me Lily Darling, it's always sarcastic. And don't yell, you sound like a howler monkey." Lily stood right behind James, holding her ears. 

"Good, now, sit down." Said Sirius.

"Honestly Sirius, why tell me to sit down? I didn't need to sit down when I married James, and that's the largest cause that anyone could want," said Lily, tapping her foot. "Now tell us."

"We from the future, and we need to bring you back there," said Sirius abruptly.

Lily and James, in one simultaneous movement, sat down.


	7. Gryffindor's Heir

A/N: yay! The next chapter. I really must apologise to all the people who have consistently asked me to email them. Much as I would like to, I barely have the time to write, much less check my email. Please do not take offence to my not having written to you, it was not intended in any malicious manner, it merely accentuates my lack of time.  I apologise to everyone again.

          "I'm a what?" Harry's words echoed that of when he first found out that he was a wizard, and what Dumbledore had just told him was no less believable to him now, as finding out he was a wizard, was then. 

          "A mage, Harry, a mage." Dumbledore looked even more old and weary than before.

          "No…no…" Harry stumbled over his words, in attempt to say everything he wanted to, "I'm no mage, I can barely pass potions! I mean, look at the triwizard tournament…look…" Everything seemed to be running too far, too fast. "I haven't got any gift, I really haven't. I mean there's nothing special about me. It's just that things have been happening to me…that's all…"

          "Nothing special, Harry?" said Dumbledore, lifting his eyebrows. "Getting past the dark lord four times without getting murdered is nothing special? Most people can't do it once."

Harry looked frantically around the room, as if trying to find another excuse.

          "Look what happened to Cedric," said Harry suddenly, "I can't do that to people, if they stay around me too long, everyone will kick off."

          "Harry, everyone will die anyway, if you don't do this. That is what you need to understand. Without you…it will mean Voldemort, or death."

Harry bowed his head, as if the weight of the world had just fallen on to his shoulders, which, in a manner of thinking, it did.

          "I'll do it." He said finally, "If I'm Gryffindor's heir, I suppose I've got to, haven't I? It's not like there's much of a choice." He sighed. "Anymore surprises you want to tell me?"

          "A few," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. "First off, in order to train, you must drop out of Hogwarts…" Harry gasped. "You may take one friend to train with you, and you will be training on the Hogwarts grounds so you will see you're other friends, Harry."

          "Only one friend will be able to train with me?" Said Harry, paling slightly.

          "Just one." Said Dumbledore firmly.

          "Oh dear," said Harry in a very small voice, looking at his feet.

          "And the last surprise," said Dumbledore, looking unusually serious. "You know the rule that no one above 17 can train as an auror unless their parents train them?" Harry looked up, did Dumbledore mean what Harry thought he meant? "You're parents are coming back, Harry, Remus and Sirius are coming with them right now. We are using a very special time turner to bring them back, so that they can train you. But you must understand, Harry, that they will only be three years older than yourself, and, they must go back, and die just as they did in your past and their future. So you mustn't tell them anything."

          "My parents…are coming back from the dead to train me as an auror, and you don't want me to tell them anything, or be upset when they leave, and I know that they're going to die?" Harry stopped stumbling over his words, and began shouting instead.

          "It is a burden." Dumbledore said. "Make no mistake about that. Any great gift or power or talent is a burden, and this more than any, and you will often long to be free of it. But there is nothing to be done. If you were born with the gift, then you must serve it, and nothing in this world or out of it may stand in the way of that service, because that is why you were born and that is the law."

          "Alright. I suppose time with my parents is better than time without them," said Harry, bowing his head again, "but…" he stopped, "how am I going to choose between Ron and Hermione?"

          "I would owl them," said Dumbledore, the sparkle in his eye back again, "Tell them to come to Hogwarts. Normally the friends themselves can help you decide better than you can."


	8. Letters From Someone

A/N: No comment. Just read. Hehe.

          "He's a what?" Lily looked up at Sirius from the floor.

          "A mage, Lily, a mage," said Sirius, looking tired.

          "My son is a mage?" Lily inadvertently glanced over at the crib where baby Harry slept. 

          "So are you, actually," said James, glancing at her from his position on the floor. He looked at his feet. "So am I."

          "Is that why…" Everything dawned on Lily. "That's how you blew up Professor Evillson's cauldron without a wand, or anything else. That's why…" she suddenly paled.

          "That's why Harry will never know either sets of his grandparents," said Remus, looking more sombre than usual.

          "Oh." Lily suddenly felt very small. "So Harry's…very powerful, isn't he?"

          "We knew that, Lils." Said James, glancing, like Lily, at the crib. 

"After all, he's only a few months old, and he's already pulled the entire set of china from the cupboard from his crib, which, I remind you, is 5 metres away from the cupboard, escaped from his crib 16 times, managed to levitate himself to the kitchen counters, blow up several of the Gryffindor family heir looms, and…"

          "You don't need to tell me what my son has done," said Lily, glaring at him. "I was there, cleaning up after all of it. I just chalked it all up to him being your son."

          "No Lily," said Sirius, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Harry is about ten times as powerful as all of us are combined. Add that to being an andcromancer, a lorria auror, and Gryffindor's heir…"

          "I understand." Lily looked up. "We die, don't we? That's why you had to come back for us. We die, and Harry needs someone to train him. What are we waiting for? Lets go already!"

          Everyone looked startled at this extraordinary pronouncement, including Lily herself.

          "We don't need telling twice," said Sirius, suddenly grinning. "It will be just like old times, the Marauders are back at Hogwarts! Hey James, just think of what we can do to Snape now he's a professor…"

          "The evil git's a professor? How'd they manage THAT one?" asked James, grinning evilly, which normally meant something suicidal.

          "Oh dear god…" said Lily.

~**~

          _Dear Harry,_

_          Of course I'll come to Hogwarts! I've never been on a flying motorbike before. Where did Hagrid get it? I'll have to ask, it could be very educational…_

_          Love from,_

_                   Hermione_

_Dear Harry,_

_School in the summer? Have you gone mad? Anyway, Mum says you can come to our house, if this is only for a short while. Until then…_

_~Ron_

~**~


	9. Hermione's word

A/N: There. I've written the next one. This one is dedicated to Katie, my critic, adviser, and best friend, whose birthday was yesterday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATIE!!!!!

Disclaimer: Everything except for Ad at this time is J.K.'s. Nuf said.

            "Harry, are you OK?" Hermione jumped off the motorbike, and ran across the Hogwarts grounds to meet him. 

"I read you're letter over and over, and I was sure that…" She paused for a moment, and looked up. "Harry…you're really tall."

            "Really is not the word, Hermione, he's about an inch taller than you are." said Ron, climbing off the bike and trotting over to join them. He put his arm on the top of Harry's head. "Still makes a good arm rest."

            "Get off, you!" Harry yelled, grinning, as he shoved Ron off of his head. He stopped grinning, then looked very seriously at Ron and Hermione.

            "Dumbledore needs to talk to all of us. Right away," he said quietly.

            "Is anything wrong?" Hermione looked worried. "I knew there had to be something wrong! I knew it! Harry, is it the Dursley's? What did they do? I…"

            "She's been like this for the whole ride here," Ron muttered in an undertone to Harry. "She's been impossible."

            "I heard that Ron Weasley!"

            "Come on, I think Dumbledore can explain it better than I can," said Harry heavily, and he started for the castle. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, now both worried, and followed.

~**~

            "He's a what?" Ron and Hermione's words, echoing those of Lily and Harry, drifted through the hallway and hit Harry's ears. It still didn't seem believable.

            "A mage." Dumbledore sounded more tired then when he had told Harry. Harry, who had been waiting quietly outside the door, walked in. If Ron was jealous last year, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know what Ron's reaction would be now. Would he ever go back to normalcy again? He severely doubted it. He looked up at his friends. Ron was pale behind his freckles, and Hermione, it appeared, was about to fall off her chair as she swayed in her seat.

            "Gryffindor's heir? A lorria auror? A mage? Harry…" She broke off.  

            "Don't," he said suddenly, not wanting to hear anymore. "Listen, I know it's going to be hard and everything, but…"

            "Harry is allowed to chose one person to train with him as an auror." Said Dumbledore. "Since he prefers not to, he would like you two to chose among yourselves. You must drop out of Hogwarts, however, you will be allowed to stay on the grounds, and therefore, still see your friends." He held out a piece of parchment. "Once you sign this, you will be signed on as an auror in training, and there will be no way out afterward."

~**~

Dumbledore held out the parchment. The whole dropping out of Hogwarts thing seemed, to Ron, quite appealing, until Dumbledore held out that parchment. A veil seemed to drop over Ron's eyes, and he knew, beyond any reasonable doubt, that he _must not sign it._

Ron looked around at the bodies strewn around him. Harry, Hermione, Snuffles…he had caused this. He could have prevented it…if only…he hadn't…tried to be like Harry…

Ron stumbled back from the parchment as if it had tried to bite him.

"I can't," he said, babbling, "You don't understand, I can't do this, I just can't I don't know why it's just…"

Dumbledore looked at him as if he was reading his mind. He smiled. "I told you, Harry, that sometimes friends can decide better than you can."

Harry, looking slightly hurt, nodded, then looked at Hermione, who was looking pale.

"I'll sign it," she said, "I've been keeping Harry out of trouble since first year, what would he do without me? Besides," she smiled. "It could be very educational."


	10. Lily's shoes

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long. I didn't mean it to, honestly. However, my characters have been very evil, bugging me with all sorts of details, and I don't have much time. But anyway, here it is.

Disclaimer: Read the sign above. Note: fanfiction. FANfiction. Not authorfiction. FANfiction. I did not create any of these characters. (Except for Ad and Frodo's wife. They're mine. Ha.)

            "All ready to go?" Sirius asked. He looked around at the bags, boxes, and other bits and bobs that Lily and James had gathered in preparation to leave and train Harry. He groaned. 

            "We're never going to drag all this stuff through the space-time continuum," he said, looking at it all.

            "If we're going to train Harry for several years, we're going to need it," said Lily shortly. She took another look at it all. "You're right. Maybe if we charm it…" 

            "Charms won't go through very easily either." Said Remus, looking harassed. "But she's right Sirius, we're going to need ever bit of it…except maybe that trunk full of Lily's shoes."

            "_I_ need my shoes, thanks," said Lily acidly. "So what if they take up a whole trunk."

            "Your clothes take up four."

            "And James' take up one."

            "I didn't ask either of you," said Lily, glaring at Remus and Sirius in turn. "And I do need my clothes."

            "Fine, fine," said Sirius, who knew better than to argue when Lily was like this.

            "Now," said Lily, who looked, suddenly, much more pleasant, "I'll put a simple shrinking charm over everything,    

and someone can put it all in their pocket."

            "Do you know how heavy that's going to be?" demanded Sirius.

            "Yes," said Lily sweetly, "And since you have the biggest pockets, they're all yours. A lightening charm wouldn't get across the space-time continuum, you know."

            "Oh, fine." It was now Sirius who was looking extremely grumpy. He knew better than to glare at Lily, however, and began to glare at the walls instead. He then picked up the extremely small trunks with a groan and almost dropped them. 

            "Your shoes weigh a tonne." He said.

~**~

            "Harry, before we do anything else, Ron and I need to tell you something," said Hermione.

            "What?" Harry, who was busy trying to flatten his hair, stopped and looked at both of them.

            The light from the Gryffindor fire made Hermione's hair look orange, and Ron's look so red, it was rather hard to look at. Both faces looked pensive.

            "It's about Ron and I…" said Hermione

            "You said that," said Harry patiently.

            "HeaskedmeoutandIsaidyes," it came out it a rush.

            "He what?!" Harry turned around.

            "I know this seems sudden," started Hermione.

            "Ron, you great fat twit, I was wondering when you'd get up the nerve. Why didn't you tell me?" Harry's face split into a grin. 

            "You…you're not…angry, or anything?" Asked Ron.

            "No, why should I be? How is this sudden? Have you eyes, Hermione? You should have seen Ron last year, mooning around like lost calf, then getting really angry about the whole Victor thing…"

            "I was not mooning around like a lost calf," said Ron, his ears going red. 

            "I believe staring at Hermione and Victor throughout the entire Yule Ball qualifies as 'lost calf,'" said Harry, grinning even wider. "You're both twits, did you know that? When did you ask…"

            He was cut off by Dumbledore entering the Gryffindor common room. Harry had never seen Dumbledore in this room at all, but he seemed to fit, even as the sight of someone like Snape would not fit at all. It simply added to the conclusion that Dumbledore had to have been a Gryffindor.

            "Harry, you're parents will be here in precisely five minutes. I suggest you and Miss Granger come to my office at once." They both nodded, and Dumbledore left.

            "See you in a bit," said Hermione, pecking Ron on the cheek.

            "Oh, now isn't that cute," said Harry, looking nervous and grinning at the same time.

            "Bugger off, you!" yelled Ron, and shoved them both through the portrait hole.

~**~

A/N: Note to everyone. I'm a H/Hr fan in ever sense of the word. However, there is a reason why I did that…you shall see later.

              
  



	11. Lost in the Space-Time Continuum

A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! I feel so loved! **Hugs Computer** in answer to you-know-who's excellent question, which was "If Lily and James are going off to train Harry, what about BABY Harry?" I hadn't forgotten about him, don't worry. I'm explaining in this chapter. J

            "We've got five minutes before we leave," said Remus, glancing at his watch. Sirius was holding his enormously heavy pocket, while groaning, "Lily, you need to ditch some of these shoes!" Lily glanced at Harry's crib.

            "WAIT!" she yelled. "What about Harry. Little Harry, I mean. We might be away for years, who's going to watch over him? What about…"

            "No one will watch him, Lils," said James. "Listen, if we use the time turner, when we come back, we'll come back the exact second we left. So therefore, even though we are older, Harry will be watched all the time, because there'll be no time in between that we will have left him. Do you get it now?"

            "I'm still going to feel incredibly guilty for leaving him for a few years."

            "Don't. You won't be leaving him at all. We've got half a minute left." Remus glanced at his watch again. 

            "We'd better get going," said Sirius, hauling himself and his pocket up from the couch. Remus threw the time turner chain around everyone, and Lily's last vision before she left the house, was an older version of herself coming through the door. 

~**~

            A million questions buzzed in Harry's head as he tried to flatten his hair. 

            "Stop!" said Hermione at last in exasperation, grabbing his hand before he tried to fruitlessly flatten it again.

            "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but you're dead parents aren't coming back for tea, now are they?"

            "A bit longer than tea, I should think."

            "It's all the same." But it wasn't. What if his parents didn't like him? What if they took one look at him, and said "dear god, get us home right now." What if…

            Harry ran out of what ifs when Dumbledore came in. 

            "Thirty seconds," he said with a smile. Harry looked at the floor, reached up to flatten his hair, and stopped.

            "It's alright, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly.

            "I know." His voice seemed strained as his fidgeted with his hands. Then he looked up, and looked right into a pair of eyes exactly like his own. A man, though much taller, that looked exactly like him. And, of course, Sirius and Professor Lupin, and what looked like…a hobbit. There was a silence so thick it was like a muffling blanket.

            Sirius broke it by dropping on the floor what looked to be several miniscule trunks, which made a tremendously loud noise as they hit the floor. He stooped, counted them, and then looked in his pocket.

            "Bugger," he said quite cheerfully. "I've got a hole in my pocket, and Lily, I think I've lost your trunk of shoes in the space-time continuum. 

~**~

A/N: Sorry it's so short. I haven't much time to write a long one, but I shall endeavour to post as quickly as possible.


	12. Of meetings and tellings

A/N: Hey! I'm back and still writing. Excellent Question # 2 from smile7499: I have a question from a previous chapter. Why did Ron freak out about leaving Hogwarts? Are we going to find out? Does it matter? Answer: Yes, It does matter. Yes, you will find out. No, I won't tell you why. It will all be in there, don't worry. : ) 

Disclaimer: All proceeds go to Archie, who needs a pair of drawers VERY badly, no matter how much he likes a healthy breeze around his privates…too much info…thanks. 

            "You lost my shoes?" Lily appeared thunderstruck. "How could you have lost my shoes?" She wasn't the only one who looked thunderstruck. 

            Harry's insides, which had previously been twisted in a large knot, now seemed to have, without his knowledge, all banded together in some sort of mutiny against him and dropped to the pit of his stomach, which kept leaping up into his throat at odd moments. He felt he needed to sit down. Hermione, who was looking from Harry to James to Lily and back, suddenly got a grim look of determination on her face, as if saying, "well, if he's not saying anything, there's nothing else for it."

            "Hello, Mr and Mrs Potter," said Hermione, sticking out her hand. "Hi Professor, Sirius."

            "Professor? Remus is a Professor? HA!" James burst into a hysterical laughter. "I…always knew you'd go legitimate on us, Moony." He shook Hermione's hand firmly, and then said, "Lily and James, please. Mr Potter brings me back to the days of me, detention slips, and Professor McGonagall."

"You've had enough," said Lily, shoving James aside and shaking Hermione's hand as well. Remus, meanwhile, was looking highly affronted.

            "I haven't gone _all_ legitimate," he said. "I did manage to lie Harry's way out of a detention from Snape, after he had gone to Hogsmeade when he wasn't…I…mean…uh…" He noticed Professor Dumbledore in the corner and stopped.

            "As always, when hearing about certain escapades, I have gone temporarily deaf and cannot hear a word you are saying," said Dumbledore, carefully staring at the ceiling. Harry, whose insides seemed to have calmed down somewhat after hearing a relatively normal conversation from people who were supposed to be dead, managed to speak.

            "Hello…" he stopped short, wondering what to call his parents that were three years older than he was. He felt awkward. What was he to say to people who he had only known through stories, photographs, and dementors?

            "Mum and Dad'll do nicely, thanks," said Lily, seeming to sense his dilemma. "Hello Harry," she looked him up and down. "I was always afraid that I'd get a carbon copy of James for a son…and I guess I was right."

            "Hey! I'm not all that bad," said Harry and James at the exact same time.

            "Bugger, two James'…I'm going home." Said Lily, turning on her heel. She then grabbed Harry into a hug. 

            "You've grown a lot since I've last seen you," she said, grinning.

            "Yeah, well, from ages one to fifteen, people tend to do that," Sirius said, butting in.

            "I didn't ask for any comments from you, thanks," said Lily, putting her hands on her hips. 

            "Hey," said James, ruffling Harry's hair, and giving him a light punch on the arm. 

            "Hey Dad," said Harry, savouring the words. He had never actually called anyone Dad before in his life…and to have a Mum and Dad in the same room was rather new. Suddenly, all the awkwardness vanished. 

            "Dad, did you know Snape teaches here now?" he asked, thinking about Sirius' reaction to that particular statement when he was in third year.

            "I've been informed…" said James slowly, grin playing about his lips.

            "Don't worry, Harry, we have it all planned," said Sirius, grinning too. "You just wait…"

            "The marauders are back," Hermione murmured to Lily. "I've never seen them in action…and yet…with Harry in there now, I'm scared."

            "It'll be worse than your wildest imaginings." Said Lily. 

~**~

            "Here's our room," said Hermione, opening the door.  "We don't have to share with the Gryffindor girls, we get our own." Two beds sat on opposite sides of the walls. Lily's four trunks sat neatly around her bed. 

            "I don't want to sound…nosey, or anything," Hermione said, "but why aren't they just giving you and James your own room? I mean…"

            "Harry can't have any siblings," said Lily briskly, heading over to her trunks.

            "Oh," Hermione looked down, casting around for a change of subject. She noticed Lily's shoes, plain brown penny loafers that were falling apart at the seams. "We need to go to Hogsmeade and get you some shoes," she said abruptly.

            "Oh," Lily laughed, "Yes, I suppose so. We were so busy packing to leave, I just wore my oldest pair of shoes, and packed the rest…and then Sirius _lost_ them…" she stopped. "Would you mind going shopping with me? James hates it. He'll never go, and I hate going by myself."

Hermione visibly brightened.

            "I'd love to go," She said happily, "Harry and Ron _won't_ go clothes shopping, and the rest of the Gryffindor girls are such airheads I can't stand…" she broke off, and looked at her feet. "That wasn't very nice of me. I apologise."

            "Why? You're not insulting me." Lily smiled. "Wonderful. I always hated shopping with Petunia. Between insults about witchcraft, and 'Oh, Vernon will _love_ me in this,' I could hardly hold down my lunch."

  
            "I know," said Hermione, "I was never good friends with Lavender and Parvati, they were always too…into the hair and make-up, I suppose. I didn't have any friends here, until Harry and Ron had to rescue me from a troll…"   
  


            "Troll?" Lily looked up from her trunks. "He rescued you from a _troll_?"

            "Yes, in first year," said Hermione, sitting on her bed, and absentmindedly fiddling with the curtains. "Then he fought with you-know-who for the Philosopher's stone, fought with him _again_ in the chamber of secrets, had to regrow all the bones in his right arm and then there was the whole triwizard thing…"

            "No pranks? Nothing?"

            "Not really. When he snuck around and got caught, it was normally for the benefit of solving some type of mystery. Or when he was helping out Hagrid by getting rid of a dragon. I was in on that one. That's when he got all his detentions."

            "I think you need to go over this again, Hermione," said Lily faintly. "Voldemort? Again? What happened with Voldemort? Go slowly this time and tell me everything."

            "You don't know about Harry?" said Hermione, alarmed.

            "What about him? I can tell you he sat up on November second, smiled on…"

            "No, no," said Hermione. "You know less than he did when he first came to Hogwarts. He's the boy who lived. He defeated Voldemort when he was a baby. And held him off again in first year, second year, and fourth year…and now…"

            "Start over," Lily ordered. "Start from the very beginning, and don't leave out anything."

~**~

A/N: I'm sorry that this is such a bad chapter. It was awkward to write, and things will be better written from here on in. I just had trouble with this one, for reasons unknown to man. I've rewritten in three times, and now I'm just posting. I apologise, and they will get better, I promise. 


	13. Of classes and Quiddtich

A/N: Thank you, again, for all the reviews. I have to say, I have never been grumbled at for taking to long to write a chapter…hehe…the only one who grumbles at me most of the time is my English professor…she also growls…scary…but I digress. People seem to be strangely worried about Hermione. Don't worry; she's a big lass, with a good head on her shoulders.

            Hermione felt strangely guilty about lying to Lily. Well, she didn't really lie, but gave Lily the edited version. Hermione prided herself on her wits, she was clever, no doubt about it. Just clever enough to make the edited version seem plausible. No mention of Wormtail was in it at all. But still, she felt as though she was cheating Lily out of telling her all about her son's life that she missed. She skirted around the issue of Sirius being in Azkaban, (by saying, "he got framed, but I don't know what for,") and left it at that. But still, she felt Lily was entitled to know. It was her son, after all.

~**~

            "Lessons!" Said Lily briskly, hauling a stack of books equal to the size of those Hermione carried in third year.

            "Lots of fun." Said James, completely deadpan, carrying another stack equal to that of Lily's. Hermione and Harry sat side by side in an empty classroom, both looking slightly anxious. For the first time in her life, Hermione looked afraid of learning. 

            "Now," said Lily, sorting through the books. "These are the books that James and I accumulated throughout our training as aurors. They are also the books that Sirius and Remus accumulated, and, we have left several other stacks in the common room, which we will have the pleasure of looking through later."

            Harry winced. So many books…Hermione was going to have a field day. In fact, it seemed as if she had already started. She was glowing, and looking as though she was itching to grab the books out of Lily's hands and begin memorising every page.

            "Now," said Lily, "When you train as an auror, you normally pick a specific area to train in. For instance, I chose charms and medical charms. But you also must always train in combat and combating spells as well as your own area. I can battle my way into the middle of a war, blast away most of the enemies, and try to heal a few soldiers."

            "I chose transfiguration, and advanced human transfiguration, besides the combative training." Said James, "I can make myself look like anyone on earth, as long as I have seen them first."

            "But," said Lily, "You two are special. You need to train in all areas. Not just one. So, luckily enough, we each have special knowledge of each type of area that you must know. Your timetable is here." She handed Hermione and Harry each a sheet of paper, which read:

_6.00-6.30 Breakfast_

_6.30-10.30  Animal Sciences/Herboligy: Prof. Remus Lupin_

_10.40-1.00  Transfiguration/Human transfiguration: James Potter_

_1.00-2.00- lunch and break_

_2.00-5.30  Charms/Medical charms/hexes: Lily Potter_

_5.30-6.00 Dinner and break_

_6.00-9.00  Potions/dark arts study: Sirius Black_

_9.00-11.00  Combative training: Prof. Remus Lupin, James Potter, Lily Potter, and Sirius Black_

_11.00-11.30 Homework_

_11.30-bed_

            "You will adhere strictly to this schedule," said James, looking uncharacteristically serious. He suddenly grinned. "You have left Hogwarts and now are in the boot camp from Hell."

            "Right," said Lily, glaring at him. "After we see that you are getting on well with you're lessons, we will add mimicry lessons and muggle studies."

            "We don't need muggle studies!" Hermione and Harry joined in a simultaneous outcry.

            "This is not the normal kind," said Lily. "But we will see to it that you get them, when you are ready."

            "Oh bugger," said Harry, putting his head on the desk.

~**~

            "What about Quiddtich?" Harry paced his room. James was sitting calmly on top of his bed, watching.

            "What about it?"

            "I suppose you wouldn't know, Dad, but Quiddtich was my life. I was the youngest seeker in a century. I was hoping for Quiddtich captain this year. But I'm throwing it away to save the world." He sounded undeniably sarcastic.

            "Youngest seeker in a century?" James grinned. "Those are my genes, those are."

            "Yeah, Professor McGonagall told me." Harry grinned now too. "What position did you play?"

            "She didn't tell you that? After all my fame and glory?"

            "No…no, not really."

            "Chaser. Sirius was a beater, Remus and Peter sat on the sidelines and watched us get hauled off to the hospital wings after the games. But most of the time, Sirius got thrown off the field before he had a chance to finish the game. He once brought his flying motorbike onto the field."

            "I can see Sirius as a beater," Harry grinned at the thought of Sirius on his flying motorbike wielding a club. "What did Mum do?"

            "Your Mum," said James dramatically, "was the commentator. She was actually good at Quiddtich, but she hates heights, your mum does. She was pretty inflammatory, too. 'What will that idiot Potter do next? If it wasn't for the fact that he was so good looking, that would've been a penalty.'"

            "She should meet Lee Jordan. I think they'd like each other."

            "Hmmm…" James looked thoughtful. "Maybe I could get Dumbledore to bend the rule about being totally kicked out of Hogwarts…being Quiddtich deprived should be listed under 'cruel and unusual punishment.'"

            "Hermione'll be pleased. She spends most of her life watching Quiddtich matches, and then watching me get hauled off to the hospital wing."

            "She doesn't like Quiddtich then?"

            "Not particularly."

            "We'll have to add Quiddtich to the schedule, then."

            "She'll kill us both." Harry and James grinned evil identical grins.

~**~

A/N: I apologise for being late, again. I'm trying as much as I can. Oh, I know that Ron hasn't been mentioned much, but he'll be back, don't worry. 


	14. Of Gromanics and Teelihores

            A/N: There are several excellent questions to answer this time! Yes, you will find out why the Hr/R thing is going on. But not for a very very very long time. Sorry. And you will get more Ron. Eventually. I actually have never considered writing a L/MWPP Quiddtich fic before. I may have to try it…

Hermione and Harry appeared at the breakfast table in the Great Hall at 6.00, looking bleary-eyed and annoyed. 

"I cannot _believe_ the time," said Hermione, sitting down at the Gryffindor table with a thump, and reaching for the porridge.

"You brought this upon yourself, you know," said Harry, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "You didn't have to do this."

"Oh stop grumping at me," Hermione snapped. "I hate it when you don't get enough sleep."

"Likewise," said Harry shortly. "But I wasn't saying goodbye to Ron for half the night. Honestly. You'd think that you would never see him again, much less see him in a few weeks."

"Six weeks."

"That's like, only a second to Nicolas Flamel," Harry quoted.

"I didn't ask you."

"No, I was merely quoting your wise and clever sayings. Practice what you preach."

"Go get some tea, if you can't be civil, and wake yourself up."

"I hate tea."

"If you don't get something with caffeine in it, I will ram it down your throat."

"Fine!" said Harry, getting up in a huff. "But you get some too."

"I'm not the one who's in a temper today."

"Yes you are."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Fight nice, children." Lily walked in, looking irritatingly perky.

"Yeah, what was that row?" Sirius came in as well, looking as happy as Harry had ever seen him.

"Nothing," Hermione and Harry mumbled together.

"Oy, what in blazes was that?" James ambled in as well, looking only less slightly perky than Lily. 

"Harry are you being obstinate and argumentative?" asked Lily.

"Yes," volunteered Hermione.

"I figured," Lily sighed, "James is always like that when sleep deprived."

"Hey!" Exclaimed James, "I am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Fight nice, children," said Harry and Hermione at the same time, grinning.

"What the devil is going on," Remus walked into the Great Hall. "Oh, it's Lily and James. I should have known." He sat down and reached for the porridge. "I advise that you two finish up, you have ten minutes left."

"You're not going to make us leave without finishing, are you?" Hermione looked flabbergasted.

"Nine minutes," said Remus.

~**~

"Well," said Remus nine minutes later. "It certainly feels good to be back in school again. Don't you agree?"

Harry decided it would be polite to refrain from commenting, especially after what happened at breakfast.  
  


"Now, Voldemort will probably attempt to unleash upon you all the powers of his unholy hell that he's got. Not only will you both have to combat with deatheaters, but Lethifolds, blood sucking bugbears, gromagnics, teellihores, vampires, hags, veelas, basilisks and various other appealing creatures. You must learn how to deal with them each separately, and learn how to defeat them."

Hermione put up her hand.

"Don't bother with hand raising, since there's only two of you," Remus smiled, "just ask."

"I'm sorry professor, I've heard of vampires, hags, veelas, basilisks, and even lethifolds…but…"

"What's a lethifold?" Somehow, Harry felt he didn't want to know.

"A creature that looks like a cloak, it smothers you to death, and can only be defeated by a Patronus," said Remus. "But what, Hermione?"

"I've never heard of a gromagnic, or a teellihore. They're not in Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them." 

"Quite right. Gromagnics and teellihores are not…precisely animals."

"What are they?"

"Well…this won't be very pleasant, I'm warning you. I've never even dealt with one. I very much doubt that I could."

"And?" Harry prompted.

"A teellihore is a human, or used to be. It is a dead human sentenced to purgatory. The dark lord can force it to do his bidding by conjuring one up. They tend to fall apart after a while, because they have to use the bodies they had on earth, and they're normally rotting, but they're expendable, which is why their common name is a hand."

Harry shuddered, thinking of Wormtail, and how expendable Voldemort thought human hands to be.

"The worst of it is, they still have human countenances, human souls. They know what they are doing, and know they shouldn't be doing it, but they can't stop themselves. When a dark lord is feeling particularly malicious, he sends after you a hand that you _used to know_."

Hermione gasped. "You mean if your grandmother was in purgatory, he could send her after you to murder you?"

"Precisely. That's why you need to be prepared. People tend to show more mercy toward dark creatures when they look like people they used to know."

"What happens to a teellihore after they're defeated?" Harry asked. "Do they go back to purgatory?"

"No one really knows, except the teellihore themselves, and no one has really thought to ask one, I suppose."

"What about the other…the…Gromagnic?" asked Hermione.

"A Gromagnic is a demon. Yes, that's right, straight from Hell. A Dark Lord can conjure one up to do his bidding, but, of course, with the price that the dark lord will join them in Hell once they're finished.  Demons are can destroy with a glance. The only way to get rid of one is to send it back to Hell, where it belongs. Such a doing takes an immensely powerful wizard, if that, normally it takes a mage. That will probably be your job, Harry."

"Wonderful," said Harry in mock cheerfulness. "Why have fun playing with the death eaters when I can fight a demon from Hell?"

~**~

"Transfiguration can be a very long and complicated process of wand waving and incantations," said James. "But I find all that really unnecessary. Hermione, unfortunately for you, you must go through the wand waving and incantations. You see, only a mage can do wandless magic. However, while Hermione is studying, Harry, you will be in bed with an ice pack over your head from a blistering head ache."

"Yeech," said Harry. "Why?"

"It's simply the after-affects of wandless magic.  Blistering head aches often are. Other symptoms include vomiting, and complete insomnia."

"Sounds like loads of fun."

"Oh believe me, it is."

"Tell me again, Dad, why are we doing wandless magic?"

"Oh the symptoms go away after you've done it enough, it's just in the beginning that you get all the appealing side effects. Now, let me show you how this is done." James reached into the air above his head, and pulled, as if pulling down a window-shade. He pulled the air down the length of his body, and, oddly enough, when his hand passed over himself, it changed into the very image of Professor McGonagall. James folded his arms over one another, and pressed his lips together.

"Potter!" He (or she, Harry really couldn't tell which,) said in Professor McGonagall's sternest voice, "What have you done now that you need a detention for?" James rapidly pulled the air again and changed into himself.

"Nothing Professor," he said flashing a trademark grin. He pulled the air again.

"As if you expect me to believe that story Potter. Were you the one who painted the Slytherin common room pink?" He pulled the air yet again, and changed back into himself.

"No Professor," he said, opening his eyes wide in an innocent-as-a-baby look. "How could you think that _I _of all people could do such a thing?" Back to McGonagall.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. No buts, Potter." James changed back into himself and grinned as his applauding pupils. 

"That was amazing!" said Harry. "You looked just like her!"

"Could you change into anybody?" asked Hermione

"Yes," said James proudly. "As long as I have seen them first. Now, for the real lesson. Hermione, if you could pick an eye colour, what would it be?"

"Blue, I suppose," said Hermione looking startled. "Brown is just so boring."

"I resent that comment," said James, his brown eyes smiling down at her. "Now, I want you and Harry to both think of an eye colour that you want, think about nothing else."

Both stared at him, then obediently closed their eyes and concentrated.

"Now," said James, "Harry, reach up into the air, just above your eyes. Do you feel anything?"

"No," said Harry, "Wait…yes, kind of a hook thing." 

"Good. Reach for it, and pull just past your eyes. Don't go any further, or else the rest of you will turn the colour that you're thinking. Now Hermione, take out your wand and say 'oculous transformus.'"

"Oculous transformus." Hermione spoke, and Harry pulled at the same time.

"Ouch!" Harry grabbed his head, "This is _not_ fun."

"No, but it means you did it right," said James. "Here's a mirror. You can both open your eyes now." Harry and Hermione opened their eyes, and looked in the mirror. Hermione's eyes were a deep blue and Harry's were…brown. Plain dark brown. The very colour of James' eyes. 

"Pretty useful, huh Dad?" said Harry, "If I get rid of the scar, I could be you!"

"Grow another foot or so, and I'll think about it." James grinned, pulled the air again, and grew short, with green eyes and a scar. "I can't duplicate the scar exactly," said James, "but I can get close enough to make most people think I'm Harry Potter."

"We're going to have fun with this," said Harry who now looked like James, grinning James' evil grin.

~**~

A/N: YAY! EASTER BREAK! I'll try to put out more now that I'm off…so be on the lookout. Oh, and to answer one more question…no I don't have an email list for when the story comes out. I'm not nearly competent enough on the computer for something like that. : D 

  
  


  
  



	15. Of Charms and Wet Mittens

A/N: Told you I'd be back. Well, I know you are all very much Ron deprived. I'm Ron deprived. We're all Ron deprived! However, Everyone has to wait six weeks for Ron to come back. And then we won't be Ron deprived. (I hate it when I tie my own hands like that and can't get out of it…) The six weeks will go quickly, I promise you, so Ron can get back to being the adorable idiot that he is. (You have to admit, Ron is a bit thick, wonderful guy, but just a bit thick.) I promise…he'll be back. 

It was lunch, the first break that they had had since that awful breakfast. Hermione was looking forward to some food. She managed only a few bites of porridge before the nine minutes were up. This time she had a whole hour to eat something. She hadn't realised when she started that they would be on such a military schedule. Ah….the price of keeping Harry out of trouble and alive… 

Harry walked in, with, surprisingly enough, two cups of tea. He set one down in front of her. 

"It's an 'I'm sorry, I've been thick' drink," said Harry, taking a sip of his own mug.

"I thought you hated tea."

"I don't particularly like it, but I'll drink it when I have to," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I was being obstinate and argumentative."

"No, just grumpy," said Hermione. "And so was I. I'm sorry, I just feel Ron deprived."

"I think we're both Ron deprived. I could use his sense of humour to lighten up this blistering head ache I have." 

(A/N: I'm sorry. Where did that come from? Even the characters are Ron deprived. Everybody's against me…ack!)

"I'm sorry about your head."

"It's alright. You have nothing to be sorry about. I've had worse."

"Like the time when Professor Lockheart took out all the bones in your arm and you had to regrow them?"

"Yeah, that's a good example," said Harry, grinning. "Speaking of Quiddtich…"

"We weren't speaking of Quiddtich."

"I had to regrow all the bones in my arm _because_ of Quiddtich," said Harry, "Guess what? Dad has talked to Dumbledore. I can still be on the team. And we're _both_ getting Quiddtich lessons as part of our training."

"_WHAT?"_ Yelled Hermione.

"Yeah, isn't it great?" said Harry, grinning.

"Harry Potter, if I wasn't trying to help save your life, I would kill you."

~**~

"Charms and Medical Charms are, perhaps, the most useful things for you to know." Said Lily 

"You're just biased," said James

"You weren't invited to this class, and if you are going to make snide remarks, you can leave," said Lily acidly.

"I know when I'm not wanted," said James with a sniff.

"For once in his life," Lily muttered.

"I love you, Lily Dearest."

"Shut up and leave," said Lily.

"Aren't you going to say you love me back?" said James, sounding hurt.

Lily pretended to think about it.

"No," she said. "Wingardium Leviosa!" 

James hovered about four feet above Lily's head. Lily directed him out the door with her wand, and then shut the door. They heard a thud as James hit the ground.

"You know," said Lily, "I think I need to rephrase my statement about useful charms. Charms and Medical Charms are _the_ most useful thing for you to know. Especially when it comes to getting rid of idiots."

~**~

Dinner was more eventful than either breakfast or lunch. James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily kept things so eventful that Harry barely had time to eat, he was so busy watching.

James, who, apparently, had had his pride hurt when he was dumped outside the charms classroom, decided that revenge would be in order. Lily's plate floated about four feet above her head every time she tried to take a bite of her chicken. So she, in turn, changed James' chicken into a pair of wet mittens, and hovered the platter of chicken above James' head every time he reached for a drumstick. 

Sirius, feeling the need to have a little fun, changed Remus' robes to a delicate shade of pale pink, with a large heart in the middle. Sirius, in turn, had robes of flamboyant purple and pink stripes that changed to plaid and back again. Harry found Sirius very hard to look at. 

"How dare you insult me," said James, smacking Sirius with a wet mitten.

"What did I do?" asked Sirius, confused, as he attempted to give Remus bunny ears.

"Your robes offend my eyes," said James primly, with a grin.

Sirius, now having been slapped on the face with a wet-mitten-that-used-to-be-chicken for no reason at all, got the reason he needed to give James the bunny ears instead.

"Would you like a carrot?" he asked. James reached up and felt the ears. Sirius promptly got smacked with the wet mitten again.

"Time's up!" yelled Remus. "Sirius, your class now."  Everything immediately changed back into what it was, except for James' bunny ears.

"Sorry, buddy," said Sirius sheepishly, "those take a couple of days to wear off."

James transfigured the chicken back into the wet mittens, and smacked Sirius with one. This stuck to his forehead, and wouldn't, apparently, come off for a few days.

"Ha," said James.

~**~

A/N: I feel I owe you all an apology. I just haven't had time to write, even over Easter break. I'm sorry. I shall endeavour to do better next time.

  
  


  
  



	16. Of classes and stories

A/n: I'm sorry. I really am. However, It's been a crazy two weeks, and will be another crazy two weeks, so I'm trying to write when I can. Trying.

"Now," said Sirius. "I know how you think that potions must be the most boring, useless subject on the face of this planet. However, it is really quite interesting, once you get to know it. I remember, I _hated_ potions with a passion…but that was because I had a boring, crotchety old potions professor who didn't find it amusing when the walls of the Slytherin common room suddenly turned a flamingo coloured pink."

Harry and Hermione both snorted.

"I still can't see why…" said Sirius, half under his breath. "However, he did find it funny when he had to watch James, Remus and I scrape frog entrails off the ceiling of the potions laboratory, while we were serving detention."

Harry and Hermione snorted again. 

"Frog…frog…" Harry gasped. He put his head on the desk in helpless laughter.

"How did they get on the ceiling in the first place?" Hermione wondered.

"We fed a filibuster firework to a frog to see what would happen," said Sirius looking dignified. "He didn't seem to find that very humorous, either."

Hermione burst into giggles.

"One of your more brilliant plans, I presume?" she asked.

"Em…you could call it that…" said Sirius.

"What was your worst plan?"

"That would be when we…emm…" Sirius went into a mumble.

"YOU WHAT???" Harry began laughing again.

"Mages," said Sirius. "They always have great hearing. Ugh."

"I can't believe even _you_ would go hang the potions professor by his feet from the candles in the great hall, with a sign proclaiming: 'James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were here.'" Said Hermione

"You got all that?" Sirius looked confused.

"Loud and clear."

"Hmmm…right. Back to Potions."

~**~

"We're not going to work at magical combat yet," said James.

"Just Hand-to-hand combat, first," said Lily. 

"So," said Sirius, "Lily better start teaching you the medical charms, because your each going to get your behinds kicked so hard…"

"Stop it, Sirius," said Lily. "There are wards that we put up, so you can't get hurt while you're practicing combative tactics."

"Right," said Hermione, looking pale.

"Alright," said Remus, "now, I want you to make a fist, like you're boxing…"

Harry and Hermione both half-heartedly stuck out their hands.

"God," said James, "we have a lot to do…."

~**~

"Lily," said Hermione. She was up on her bed feeling all together run down. She sat up. "Lily, do you and James even _like _each other?"

"Of course I do," said Lily. "I love James. Why else do you think I married him?"

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it, that's all."

Lily laughed.

"I suppose so, yes," she said ruefully. "But I guess, well, James and I really hated each other before 6th year. We argued all the time, and I suppose the habit is sort of hard to break. Then Voldemort killed my parents, and his. It was because we were mages, he was trying to get all mages on his side. He also seemed to know that we were going to get married someday and was determined to wear us down."

She paused for a moment, thinking.

"You know, I never really knew what happened. James and I decided that we would be stronger together than we would be apart. So we started talking. Just talking, and after awhile…I just fell in love with him."

"I was 16 when mum and dad died, right before the holidays. I was angry. Angry at the world, angry at having to go to Petunia and her husband's house over the summer. I was thinking about all of the rotten things I could manage to do to Petunia that I could get away with…when James walked into the compartment."

"He and I had been on friendlier terms, after his parents had died, and I knew Voldemort was after mine. So I wasn't all that mad at him when he sat down next to me and said real quietly, 'Lily, I'm really, really sorry about your parents. I really am.'"

"Then he looked at me for a moment, and I looked and him and I said,"

"What?" Hermione was sure they were on the brink of something very romantic.

"I said 'Voldemort is a balmy sadistic twat who didn't get enough love as a child.' James laughed. He laughed so hard he fell off his chair. And then he looked up at me from the ground and said quite cheerfully, 'Lily, I think I'm madly in love with you. Will you marry me?"

"And?" Hermione prompted. 

"I looked straight at him and said, 'James Potter, you are a balmy twat who didn't get enough love as a child.'"

Hermione laughed.

"He laughed and said, 'And I'll continue not getting enough love with you around! But please. Will you think about it?'"

"I didn't need to think about it. I said 'yes, you balmy twat.' And that was the end of that."

"You were sixteen?" Hermione asked, slightly horrified. 

"Yeah," said Lily, slightly dreamily. "I didn't need to think about it. James and I needed each other, loved each other. So…we got married right out of Hogwarts…you should have seen the look on Petunia's face when I walked up to her at the train station that day and said, 'I'm getting married, and I'm going over to my fiancée's house for the summer. Bye!' She nearly fainted."

"She deserved the shock," said Hermione firmly. "She deserved a lot more than that."

"Yes, I suppose she did," said Lily smugly, "Which is just what she got, when I went to go visit."

~**~

A/N: Sorry this is so short. I'll try to get the next chapter out quickly. In the mean time, read Miss (Mr) Congeniality by Up. To. No. Good. Wolfiegrl and I are writing it!

  
  


  
  



	17. Of Father-son Chats

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to come out. I've been battling an unbreakable case of writers block and a worse case of extreme grumpiness. **Grumbles…bloody computer. Deleting my story…Grr…**  But, yes contrary to popular belief, I am continuing this story, and further more, contrary to another popular belief, I am an H/Hr shipper, much as it doesn't seem so at the moment. : ) 

            Harry severely disliked father-son chats. He had never actually experienced one, but he had seen enough from watching television programs that they were rather unpleasant and should be avoided at all costs. If he happened to encounter one from some well-meaning fatherly figure, such as, say, Mr. Weasley or Sirius, Harry knew that he would be much better off putting the Avada Kedavera on himself, and hoping it actually worked this time, so he wouldn't have two scars on his head instead of just one. 

            Harry also had a rather large problem. Well-meaning fatherly-figures aren't nearly as bad as a real fatherly-figure who happened to share your dormitory. Especially if the fatherly figure was only three years older than you are. A two day break from the grueling classes of an auror seemed, at first, wonderful to Harry. After all, the Hogwarts staff did need a few days to set up for regular classes. However, father-son chats, which were to be avoided at all costs, now seemed unavoidable. Especially after the restrictions that Dumbledore put on the said Fatherly Figure…and the Motherly Figure as well. It was not a good day for Harry.

~**~

            "The staff is coming tomorrow," said Dumbledore, looking at them over his half moon spectacles. "The students only two days after that. So you must keep out of the staff's way as they set up for their classes. Furthermore, the only people that know about your…shall we say…resurrection," his eyes twinkled over the spectacles at Lily and James, "Are myself, Hagrid, Sirius Remus, and you." He nodded toward where Harry and Hermione were sitting.

            "Hagrid, as you know, is quite bad at keeping secrets." Harry and Hermione grinned at each other, recalling experiences of Fluffy, Nicholas Flamel, and various other "top secret" information that they had managed to weasel out of Hagrid.

            "So therefore, we thought it would be safer if we put a small memory charm on him, so he doesn't even remember that he picked you up, Harry. It is important that we keep it that way." Harry, about to comment on the unfairness of Hagrid's treatment, shut his mouth, and sat back in his chair.

            "I must impose upon all of you the necessity of James and Lily being here a complete secret," said Dumbledore. "No one must know you are here."

~**~

            James was bored. Very bored. He couldn't do anything; say anything, in fact he was supposed to spend the entire two days pretending not to exist. Which he voiced aloud to the only other person in the room. Harry. Harry looked startled for a minute.

            "Actually, it's not as bad as you think," he said with a shrug. "I had to spend a few days like that…whenever the Dursley's had company. However," he grinned, "One time I did have a house elf come in and smash Aunt Petunia's pudding."

            "Yeah, your mum did something like that once," said James, grinning also. "It was right after we got engaged. She was so happy, she went over to her sister's house later that summer, and interrupted her dinner, by appearing in a puff of smoke. The beast that she married fainted. It was great." James was obviously still relishing that moment. 

            "She was a scary twit, your mum was. Still is, actually. I remember when I first met her…" James trailed off for a bit. Harry looked stricken and wondered whether he should put the Avada Kedavera on himself now, as it was obviously turning into a dreaded Father-son chat. He was already beginning to wince at what he imagined Dad would say about Mum. Fluffy, sickening, nostalgic comments, typical of any "father-son chat"

            "When I first met your mum, she came flying at me like something out of my worst nightmare. She had a dungbomb in one hand, her wand in the other, and she was screaming curses at the top of her lungs. I don't even know how she knew them all, because she was, after all, a muggleborn. Sirius, the object she had been trying to curse, was running faster than I had ever seen him run in my life." James laughed, a big booming laugh that filled the room. "Sirius hid behind me and I got cursed instead. I had nose hair growing down to the floor for 6 hours, because we had to go to sorting and the feast before I could head to the infirmary. We hated each other for the longest time afterwards." He grinned again. "Alright, enough of this rubbish. Where's Snape's office? He's here, isn't he?"

            "Um, I think so," said Harry rummaging through his trunk. He pulled out a piece of parchment, tapped it with his wand, and mumbled, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He squinted at the parchment for a moment, and then said, "He's in the potions dungeon."

            "You found the marauders map?" said James, who obviously delighted. "We lost it the day before we graduated. Filtch found it. We thought he threw it away."

            "No," said Harry, grinning, "It was under a file marked 'confiscated and highly dangerous.' Fred and George Weasley found it, and gave it to me, because I couldn't get into Hogsmeade. They didn't know it was my own Dad who wrote it."

            "Well, as long as it was in the right hands," said James.

            "Oh, you would like Fred and George a lot, Dad," said Harry. "You really would."

            "I'll have to meet them some day," said James. "Now I have to go find Sirius and Remus, and then we can go find Snape." James and Harry grinned identical evil smiles. Then James left. Harry, now having experienced a Father-son chat, realized that they were highly underrated.

~**~

            "Potter!" McGonagall's voice rang through the hallway. I must be losing my touch, thought James, to be caught that quickly after being out of the room for only about five minutes…I wish Sirius were here. And no one can know that I'm alive…James quickly reached for the latch that would change his eye color. James began grasping for straws, trying to think of something plausible. He knew that something happened with Voldemort and Harry last year…I really hope she believes this, thought James. Well, I'm sorry about this detention, Harry, he thought. It probably won't be the last one I get for you, either.

~**~

            "Potter, what do you think you are doing here, before school starts?" McGonagall was bewildered to why Harry was here, but was ready to hear him out first. Harry lifted his hands to his eyes, and then turned around.

            "I'm sorry professor," said Harry, "Dumbledore allowed me to come here because…" he trailed off, "Well the Dursley's…" he trailed off again. McGonagall felt a quick surge of rage. She knew they shouldn't have left that poor defenseless child at that miserable house. Who knows what they were doing to him?

            "So Dumbledore let me come to Hogwarts a few days early, especially after last year…" He shrugged. McGonagall looked at him, sympathy clouding her brain. He should normally get a detention for being in a teacher's way when he was expressly forbidden not to…but the poor child has been through so much…

            "Anyway, Professor," said Harry, flashing her a grin, "could I get you anything? Help you with anything? You know, stack books, dust shelves, clean chalkboards…anything for my _favourite _Professor?"

            "No, thank you, Potter," said McGonagall, thrown for a moment. "I'll see you later, I expect." She watched as Harry happily began to walk down the hall, glad to get out of some kind of punishment. He grew taller over the summer, she noticed. And he seems uncannily like his father at that age…

~**~

A/N: Hehe, that was a fun scene to write. Anyway, Thank you very much for bearing with me. I'll have the next one out shortly.  
  



	18. Of demons

A/N: Ahhh…summer hols. Gotta love them. Nothing to do but eat, sleep, and write. And scream about how that BLOODY 5TH BOOK WON'T BE OUT UNTIL NEXT YEAR!!!! GAH! Ahem. Anyway…on to the story…

Disclaimer: All fictitious characters that you recognise are not mine. All that you do not recognise are mine.

            _"Harry, no. I forbid you to do this."_

_            "I'm NOT A CHILD ANYMORE, Dad."_

_            "YOU'RE MY CHILD!"_

_            Real Harry just stared at his shoes. The one who looked like Harry…or maybe…Dad, Harry had called him. Ron was confused. Lily and James Potter were dead long ago. They shouldn't be here, not here, not now. Not when Voldemort was threatening to kill them all, and Harry was willing to join him._

_            "Harry, please, please listen. You can't think about us. Not when the entire world depends on you. You just can't give up the world for us. Think about yourself. You can apperate away right now, no one will catch you. Just leave."_

_            "Really, Mum?" Harry asked sarcastically, rounding on her. "Is that what you thought, when you died for me? When you were protecting me, screaming 'Not Harry!' was that what you thought? If I leave now, I can save myself?" He turned to face what Ron knew now had to be James._

_            "And what about you, Dad? Were you thinking, 'I'll apperate away,' while you stood, trying to face down Voldemort to give Mum a chance to run? Is that what you were thinking? Were you thinking about yourself?" He was babbling now. Ron knew it. He knew that Harry knew it too._

_            "Harry please," Hermione spoke up, trying to stem the flow of words, trying to force him to listen to reason, as she had always done. "Harry you must listen. You can't be selfish like this. We're only a few people that you happen to care about. Out there is a whole world that needs to be saved. If you join him, we'll die anyway."_

_            "NO!" Harry shouted. "No," he whispered. "I won't let you die."_

_"We'll die either way Harry, and I'd rather die for the good of the world."_

_            "You're the only one who can kill him, Harry," Ron spoke up. It was odd, like an out of body experience. Ron felt that he was watching himself, not actually speaking for himself._

_            "You're the only bloody one. Would you rather live the rest of your life, knowing that you could have stopped him, but didn't because it would have killed your friends? Like 'Mione said, we'll die anyway. But you're the only one who can beat him."_

_            "No I can't." Harry's voice was tired, deadpan. "I can't kill him. All I can do is damn him to the seventh predicent of Hell for eternity. And then I'd need my wand. And he has that."_

_            "So maybe you can't do it now, Harry," said Hermione. "Maybe not now, but you know, if you leave now, that you'll be able to get a chance to do it later. I'd rather die knowing that, Harry I really would."_

_            "And I can't live knowing that I killed you. Become a Judas to my friends. Mum, Dad, you've already died once for me. If I could, I would return the favour. But I can't." Harry sounded beaten, worn down by decisions he was too young to make._

_            "The worst thing that you could possibly do to us," whispered Lily, "Is to return the favour. No parent should have to see their child die. The natural order of things is that the old must die before the young." _

_            "I won't let you die." Was all that Harry responded._

            "RON! Ron, are you alright? Ron?" Ginny was in his room, looking closely at him. Ron sat up. Sweat was pouring down his face.

            "It's Harry! He's…" he trailed off as Ginny lit her wand, with a murmur of  "lumos." The comforting surroundings, his Chudley Cannons posters on the walls brought him abruptly back to where he was.

            "It's nothing, Ginny," Ron said with a weak smile. "Really. It's nothing. Just a bit of a nightmare, is all. Nothing."

            "Ok," said Ginny, sounding disbelieving. "Are you sure you're alright Ron?"

            "Yes, of course," Ron attempted a grin again, which turned out more like a grimace. "I'm fine, really."

            "Ok, just, go back to sleep, we have to leave for Hogwarts tomorrow." said Ginny, turning her back to leave.

            "Oh, and Ginny?" 

            "Yes?" she turned around again.

            "Would you mind not mentioning this to anybody?"

            With a vague muttering of  'boys' she turned around and left.

            "It's nothing," Ron said to himself, over and over again. "A bad dream. It's nothing." But try as he might, he couldn't get himself back to sleep.

            Or convince him self that it was nothing.

~**~

            "Dad, do we really have to do this? It's supposed to be our break."

            "Yes. I was bored, and so was your mother. Lessons it is."

            "Mr. Potter," piped up Hermione, who was sitting on Harry's bed, looking excited. "You said this wasn't a normal lesson. What kind of lesson is it?"

            "A practical one, since we can't use the classrooms," said James, grinning. 

            "Oh joy," said Harry, completely deadpan. Six weeks ago, he would have never ventured to use sarcasm with his parents. Now that he knew them so well, however was a different story.

            "Oh Harry, stop it." Said Lily briskly. "Just because it's six in the morning doesn't mean that you have to be grumpy."

            "It does, actually," said Harry, grinning for the first time that day. "I think it's some kind of universal law. That means that all you chipper people are breaking it. Sorry Hermione, you too. Tsk tsk…I never thought I'd see the day that Hermione broke a law, much less a universal one."

            "Oh, shut up Harry." Hermione yawned.

            "Much better. We won't have to put you in the gaol now."

            "Children." James knew he always got on their nerves when he said that, so he took the liberty of saying it often.

            "Now, Hermione, this really doesn't apply to you, but since you were up, you might as well learn, even if you can't do it," said Lily. Hermione's face fell. 

            "I'm sorry," said James gently, "But really, it only has to do with andcromancers."

            "So, this is what we said. A practical lesson. One to do with dark arts creatures. The reason why Moony isn't teaching you this is for the same reason. He isn't a mage either, Hermione."

            "Right," said Hermione, nodding.

            "Now, demons have been around for centuries, because, without fail, some idiotic block head will call one up, thinking that he will be made powerful through it, or the things that the demon can give him. However, within a few hours, the demon must go back to where it came from, in other words, Hell, or send one in it's place. The same idiot blockhead, within those few hours, is normally overcome, and sent to Hell, and then we have a demon on our hands, running about, trying to kill people, suck out peoples souls, and generally scorch every chair it attempts to sit in." 

            "Sounds rather nasty," said Harry.

            "Yes, rather nasty is an accurate description," said Lily.

            "So anyway, have either of you read Dante? No? Lily get that on their reading list," James muttered in an undertone to her.

            "Well, Dante had special Hells for different kinds of people. He didn't know about demons, not really, and he was a muggle. However, he was right about one thing. There are seven things called predicents. Each one is a worse level of Hell. If it's a small demon, or not a very bad one, and it hasn't scorched a lot of chairs, you send it to the first one. If it made your house into a fiery inferno, and sucked the soul of your teddy bear, you send it to the seventh one." Said James.

            "So how do you send a demon into those predicents?" Asked Hermione.

            "It's quite easy actually, as long as you are a andcromancer and you have a wand. The power all really depends on where you want to go. First you say, 'I Damn thee to _______ predicent of Hell,' while you're pointing your wand at the demon. If it's a high predicent, say, the fifth, sixth, or seventh, you hold your wand there and let the power build up. When you think you've got enough, you simply say, '_Dante'_. If you've done it correctly you should have sent it there. The lower the predicent, the easier it is to call them up. The seventh predicent is impossible to use to conjure up a demon. You would only use that one on, say, Voldemort."

            "You can send people there too?" Asked Harry.

            "Since when was Voldemort considered a person?" Answered James.

            "Only Dark lords can be sent by another person, Harry," said Lily.

            "And you, Harry, are the only person that can send Voldemort there, because you are not only a mage, and an andcromancer, which, the two really go together, but the heir as well."  
  


            "What do you mean, 'the two really go together?" Asked Hermione

            "If you're a mage, you're an andcromancer. If you're an andcromancer, then you're a mage."

            "Oh. Alright then." 

            "Well, Harry, tomorrow you get tested on all this."

            "What!?"

            "Yeah, we'll find a nice demon for you to send back. But now, you get the rest of the day off, since all the students are coming, and I'm sure you want to say hello."

            "Thanks dad."

            "Anytime."

~**~

            A/N: Hehehe. Fun fun fun. What will Harry do about the demon? What will Hermione do when she sees Ron again? Find out next…


	19. Of Helpless (sarcastic) Heroines

A/N: I was quite distraught at ff.n's failure. Luckily, it's back. All is well and good again.

Disclaimer: All characters and Harry Potter related items belong to the esteemed J.K. Rowling. Anything you don't recognise belongs to the esteemed me. 

        "Ron! Oy, Ron!" Harry could clearly see the red hair towering above the crowd. Hermione was already fighting tooth and nail to get to him. Ron turned around, and grinned. It was an odd sort of grin, rather wobbly, as if he knew that something rather unpleasant was going to happen. No. Harry shook the feeling off. It was the same old grin. Harry was just feeling antsy about the test; that was all. After all, who wouldn't be slightly shaky when they would have to fight a demon the next day?

            Hermione ran up, throwing herself at Ron. Harry inwardly sighed and looked away. If this was how it was going to be, with snogging sessions every time he turned around, he was transferring to Beauxbatons. You would think that Hermione hadn't seen Ron for ten years, much less six weeks. He sat down at the table.

            "Oh Ron!" Hermione gushed. "You have no idea how much I've missed you!"

            Harry gagged.

            "I was so lonely."

            It sounds like something out of a romance novel, he thought.

            "I don't know what I would have done if you had been away a day more."

            You have got to be kidding me.

            Harry couldn't take it anymore. He put down his fork. 

            "I've got to go," He said vaguely. 

            "Harry," said Hermione, now sounding suddenly like her old self, not some helpless heroine in a romance novel. "Harry, you haven't eaten anything."

            "I'm not hungry, you know, I've got things to catch up on, demons to fight, that sort of thing," Harry said testily. "If you'll excuse me…" He stood up. If he was going to be completely ignored now that Hermione and Ron were going out, he'd rather be completely ignored alone in his room.

            "Oh…" Hermione said, "Very well, I'll come up and help you study later."

            "No need," said Harry shortly. "I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do."

~**~

            "Hermione, did you have to go all Lavender Brown on me?"

            "Well, it got rid of him, didn't it? Lily and James didn't want him to know, and I couldn't have told you properly without him noticing and I would be acting all weird, wondering if he heard."

            "You were acting weird anyway."

            "Shut up, Ron."

            "I think you liked playing the helpless damsel in distress."

            "I think you liked me playing it. I thought it was sickening."

            "You liar."

            "It's perfectly true, and you know it. Besides, when am I ever a helpless damsel in distress?"

            "Never, which is why you liked it."

            "I think not. It was disgusting, like something out of those romance novels Ginny used to read."

            "She did?"

            "Never mind."

            "Still, Harry must have noticed something. Give the boy some credit, Hermione."

            "I don't think so. Harry can be incredibly dense sometimes."

~**~

            "Harry? Harry, are you in there?" Hermione knocked on Harry's dormitory door. No answer. She walked in. Harry sat alone at a desk, with a pile of books stacked to the side, all on demons. He had one in front of him. You could also almost see the steam coming out of his ears. Hermione walked over and picked up the book in front of Harry. It was upside down.

            "Need help studying?" she asked.

            "No, I'm doing perfectly well on my own, thank you."

            Hermione waved the copy of _Scorched Chairs and Soulless Teddy Bears: A Guide to Demons _in front of his face.

            "Harry, unless you can read upside down, I doubt very much you were studying."

            "I was," Harry said stubbornly, his chin set.

            "Fine. Why do demons suck the soul out of teddy bears when humans aren't available?" Hermione read.

            "They like small, furry, inanimate objects?"

            "Wrong. What's the name of the seventh predicent of Hell?"

            "The seventh predicent of Hell?"             
            

            "No." Hermione shut the book. "Harry, you weren't studying. Demons suck the soul out of teddy bears when humans aren't available because teddy bears are all charmed to have tiny, tiny, tiny bits of emotion. Rather like goldfish."

            "So every time Dudley ripped the head off a teddy bear, it felt something?"

            "Something small, yes."

            "So there really is a goldfish heaven?"

            "I wouldn't know."

            "Is it down the loo?"

            "Why would you think that?"

            "That's where Aunt Petunia put Dudley's dead goldfish, he always forgot to feed them. He was too busy feeding himself, you see."

            "That's rather ironic."

            "I suppose so." Harry flopped down on his bed.

            "Harry, why aren't you studying?"

            "I dunno."

            "You do have an exam tomorrow, you know."

            "So?"

            "HARRY POTTER!" Hermione finally shouted in exasperation. "What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like a petulant two year old?"

            "I'm an angst-ridden teenager, and I believe I'm am playing the part quite well.  What would you do if your two best friends went out with each other and started ignoring you?" Harry turned slightly red. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

            Ah, thought Hermione. So that was the problem. She should have figured. Well, it was inevitable. She decided to play dumb.

            "I thought you were happy for Ron and I," she said, cocking her head slightly to the side.

            "I was happy. I mean, I am happy.  I was just absolutely spiffing until both of you began obsessing."  
            

            "Harry." Hermione said sternly, tapping her foot. "I haven't seen him for six weeks."

            "Well Hermione, neither have I. Yet you don't see me throwing myself at him."

            "I should hope not. I can just see the headlines. _Harry Potter: The Boy Who's Gay._"

            Harry grinned. "No, I suppose not. I would hate to see what you would do to Rita Skeeter after those headlines. Probably spray her with a can of 'Off.'"

            "Or maybe follow her around with a fly-swatter." Hermione smiled too. "Good. Now, what is the name of the Seventh Predicent of Hell?"

~**~    

            The next morning, the entire group sat in a dull stupor at the Gryffindor table. Sirius kept attempting to eat porridge, but missed when it got to his mouth. Hermione finally roused herself enough to make a comment.

            "Harry, you've got to eat something."

            "Hermione, will you stop nagging?"

            "She's right Harry, you're going to fight a demon today. You've got to keep your strength up."

            "Mum! You're as bad as Hermione."

            "Well, I see Hermione eating just fine," said James, smirking in a way that was deliberately meant to provoke. He tried to put marmalade on his toast, but ended up with it all over his arms.

            "Hermione doesn't have to fight a demon." Harry pushed the bacon around with his fork.

            "Well, she will be in the room with you." James was still smirking, as he attempted to wipe the marmalade off.

            "_What_?!?" 

            "It will be safer that way," said Lily firmly.

            "What do you mean, _safer_? I can do this on my own, it's much too dangerous for her. What if the demon sends her to Hell before I send it there?"

            "Harry, that's your petty little masculine ego talking," said Hermione. "I have no intention of playing the damsel in distress, waiting for her hero to finish off the big ugly monster. What if you get hurt? Who is going to haul you out of the room before the demon gets _you_? I'm in this to keep you alive until seventh year. I'm only doing my job."

            Harry grinned sheepishly. "That was rather thick of me to say, that was. Especially to Hermione."

            "Now that you've regained your senses," said Lily briskly, "You need to eat."

            "I'm not hungry."

            "_Honestly_," said Hermione finally, "He does this before every single Quiddtich game, the Triwizard tournament, You have to cram it down his throat."

            "Well, if that's what we have to do…" Sirius spoke up from out of the dull stupor he was in. He waved his porridge spoon in what he supposed was a threatening way. The gesture fell flat, somewhere between vaguely annoying and comical.

            "Fine." Harry shoved the bacon hastily into his mouth, and stood up. "Got to run, studying and all before the test," he said, and, with that, left the room at what could only be considered a run.

            "Well, that was easy," Sirius remarked. "I knew we could get him to eat if we went about it the right way."

~**~

            Harry stood outside the door of the room where the demon was contained, glowering. He had wracked his brains to find someway to prevent Hermione from going in, but, as usual, she got her way, by forcing logic into every argument he tried to use. Needless to say, all the arguments fell flat.

            "Harry, why are you so set against me not going in there with you?" She asked, walking up to stand next to him. "You never had any problems before."

            Harry considered this question. It had never occurred to him that it would be abnormal to prevent her from doing something dangerous. He finally arrived at the only answer that wouldn't sound too ludicrous. 

            "Ron would kill me."

            "You two nearly killed each other last year," She pointed out sensibly. Annoyingly sensibly. "I don't understand why it would be such a large problem this year."

            Harry considered the question again, and decided to do the only sensible thing there was to do at the moment. Completely ignore it. 

            James walked up, looking positively jovial. 

            "Alright you two, here's what we're going to do. Harry will enter first, Hermione directly after him. We will shut the door. If, within twenty minutes, you both do not walk out of here unscathed, or Hermione is not hauling Harry's unconscious body out, we will assume the worst, and Lily and I will handle it from there. Is that understood?"

            Harry and Hermione nodded, all arguments forgotten, both equally pale. Harry had an abnormally tight grip on his wand. He turned to face the door again.

            "Alright, ready?" asked James. "One, two, three…" 

            And he opened the door.

~**~

            And slammed it shut again, right after Harry and Hermione had run in. The room was very small, yet neither of them could spot the demon for a little while. Hermione finally saw it, and pointed it out to Harry.

            It was sitting sulkily in a corner, avoiding their eyes and any chairs that were placed at strategic points about the room. It was mostly black, with odd red patches that would flicker here and there about its body, giving it the appearance of something like a strobe light. It had the characteristic horns and tail, but all were made out of curious little jumping flames, that were scorching up the walls where it sat. It had a snout like a pig, but the eyes, which were still avoiding them, were a deep, soulless…lavender. It wasn't exactly the friendliest thing around, but it wasn't the thing that made nightmares, either. Harry couldn't help it. He had to laugh.

            "What're you laughing at?" The demon, though it still would not meet their eyes, finally spoke. It had an unmistakable Brooklyn accent, which just made the situation even more comical. Harry laughed harder. Hermione frowned, and elbowed him, with a sharp whisper, "It _is_ a test you know."

            Harry calmed down, and awkwardly answered it. "Em…nothing." 

            "So, what are you doing here?" The accent was even more pronounced. 

            "We…er…actually…em…" Harry coughed. "I think I'm supposed to send you back to Hell."

            "You think?" The demon asked sarcastically. "I would be a tad more considerate if I were you. How do you think I feel about being sent back?"

            "Em…" Harry didn't know quite how to take this. "Well, how do you feel?"

            "Not well, not at all well," The demon said with a sniff. "You wouldn't believe what Hell does to the sinuses. And my back, I get a constant ache right here, plus, I'm constantly scorching my ears with my tail…" It went on to list various illnesses that it had. Harry thought it would be sensible not to point out that both his ears and tail were made of fire, and therefore, could not be scorched by the other.

            "So…em…should I just send you back and put you out of your misery?" He asked tentatively. Hermione gave him an encouraging nod.

            "ARE YOU JOKING? Have you been listening to a word that I've said?" The demon screamed. "The best thing you could do for me is to send someone back in my stead. Em…well, I can't send you back, you're a mage. What about her?" It asked hopefully, pointing at Hermione.

            "No," said Harry sternly. "She's my friend. You mustn't send her back." The demon suddenly took a flying leap and landed right onto Harry's chest, knocking him down. He grabbed Harry's neck and began shaking him.

            "But the pain! The agony! The suffering! AND DID I MENTION THE PAINNNNN!" It wailed. Harry apparently, had had enough. 

            "I damn thee to the second predicent of Hell," he said firmly. The demon froze. "Well," Harry added, "it would have been the first if you hadn't tried to strangle me." He grinned.

            "_Dante_." 

            With a wail and a puff of smoke, the demon disappeared.

            "Harry, are you alright?" Hermione sat next to him on the floor, looking very worried. "I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to get the demon away without hurting it or you and…are you alright?"

            "Never been better," said Harry, rubbing the spot on his neck where the demon had been. There were already blisters beginning to form. "Well," He said brightly, "That was easy, wasn't it?"

            "My hero," said Hermione sarcastically.

  
 ~**~

A/N: Such fun. The next chapter should be out soon. :) 


	20. A very merry unbirthday

A/n: I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but I am on hols and went to the shore. It was fun…:) 

      "So Dad, when am I going to fight another demon?" Harry sat on the bed, swinging his legs, and looking very much like his father, who was doing the exact same thing on the opposite bed.

     "Soon," said James vaguely, swinging his legs and looking very distracted.

     "I can't wait until Quiddtich lessons start." Harry said.

      "Mummph," said James intelligently.

     "Mum ran off and eloped with Voldemort and Sirius at the same time." Said Harry.

     "That's nice…SHE DID WHAT??!" James suddenly shot up from the bed.

     "Dad!" said Harry, laughing.

     "I wouldn't put it past her, I really wouldn't…" James muttered, sitting back down again.

     "The only person that she would run off with is you, and you know it," said Harry, grinning. "Ok, so what is this all about? Hermione and Ron jump when I come into the room, Sirius twitches when you say anything remotely connected to food or July, the Professor started mumbling when he started talking about the eating habits of Mayan cake eaters, and you just believed me when I told you that Mum ran off with Voldemort and Sirius at the same time. The only one who is acting remotely normal is Mum."

    "You're Mum isn't normal in any sense of the word, so when she's acting that way, you know something's up," said James. "And no, I won't tell you anything."

     "So there is something up…hmmm…" said Harry.

     "Oh bloody….Go to your room," said James in exasperation.

     "I'm in my room."

     "Fine. Go to Hermione or Ron's room. Anywhere but here. This is ridiculous. He's so like me, I'm beginning to think he's _me._ Gah, I'm as bad as Hagrid…"

    "Not quite," said Harry grinning, as he got up from the bed and went to the door. He opened it, walked out, then stuck his head in again. "Almost," he said, grinning all the more, "but not quite," And he shut the door, narrowly escaping being hit by a flying pillow.

~**~

      "Ron, shut up!"

      "I wasn't the one who was giggling madly," said Ron.

      "Hey!" said Lily indignantly, "that was one little giggle. Just one."

       "Ouch! Moony, you're on my foot!"

       "Well, maybe if your feet weren't so big, Padfoot, I wouldn't be on them."

       "James that was _my_ foot!"

       "I'm sorry, Lily darling."

       "Gah! I hate it when you call me Lily darling."

       "Ouch! Ron, that was my head!"

       "I'm sorry, Mione darling, but if your head wasn't where my elbows are you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

       "Gah! I hate it when you call me Mione darling."

       "Couldn't we just turn on the bloody lights and hide under the invisibility cloak? I can't see anything."

       "Since when did seven people fit under the cloak, Padfoot?"

      "I think," said Professor Dumbledore calmly, "that Harry is coming."

       The room grew quiet. The door opened and a beam of light, the first that the occupants of the room had seen in the last fifteen minutes, swept across the stone floor. 

     "Sirius? Hermione?" Harry looked around. The lights flicked on.

    "Surprise!!!" Everybody yelled. Harry looked around, blinking like an owl caught in daylight. 

     "What's this for?" he asked staring at the cake and the mountain of presents.

     "Happy unbirthday, Harry," said Lily. "We wanted to celebrate your birthday when Ron was here, so we had to wait a bit."

      "Did you think we forgot?" asked James.

      "Well, actually…" Harry blushed. Hermione suddenly understood.

      "You're just not used to having a birthday party, are you Harry?" she asked quietly. "The Dursleys always forgot."

      Harry nodded uncomfortably. The room grew quiet again.

     "One of these days…" James and Sirius muttered in unison.  

     "Well," said Lily briskly, "We don't forget, at least I certainly won't!" She grinned. "Who's up for cake? I think Sirius stuck his hand in it at one point when we couldn't see but otherwise…"

    Sirius looked smug. "It tasted delicious. I can vouch for it."

    Harry, who seemed to be coming out of shell-shock, muttered incoherently and put his head in his hands. When he looked up, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

~**~

    "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

    "Yes, Harry, I did." Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, looking slightly apprehensive.

    "Oh, by the way, I wanted to thank you for those dungbombs you gave me."

    "I trust your father approved?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling slightly.

    "Oh yes, he's giving me a lesson today on how to set a timer on one so it will go off…" Harry ended with a slight cough. "umm…so, I guess that this isn't about the dungbombs, is it?"

    "No, Harry, it's not. And I don't think you will find it pleasant, what I have to tell you. But it is necessary, nonetheless."

     "Uh-oh…" Harry muttered quietly.

     "Quite so," said Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, in order to maintain the strictest secrecy, we must wipe Mr. Weasley's mind of any memories of your parents being alive."

     "What…wipe his memory?" Harry said in disbelief. "Professor, Ron wouldn't tell anyone, he really wouldn't I promise…"

     "You cannot promise something for others, Harry. And a promise can be broken in extreme circumstances. And that is what we are on the brink of. Extreme circumstances."

    "So in other words," said Harry, with no emotion in his voice, "You are not only asking me to lie to the school, you're asking me to lie to my best friend as well."

    "I won't lie to you, Harry. Yes, that is what I'm asking you to do. For the safety of yourself, your parents, and the friend that you are lying to."

      "What about Hermione?  What about her?"

     "She has you, Harry, she is safe. But, you can only protect one person at a time, and Miss Granger is the one who is working with you."

     "This feels so wrong," Harry muttered.

     "It will feel wrong, for a long time," said Dumbledore, looking intently at him, "Take it from someone who knows. Everything around you will feel like a large masquerade party, no one is who they first appear to be. Everything around you is subject to change. But so are you, Harry. You are the subject. And you are being subject to change. For the good of the world."

    "Alright then," said Harry heavily, standing up. "Would you like me to get Ron for you then?"

     "If you would be so kind."

     "Just please, Professor, would you do me a favour? Explain everything to him before you wipe his memory."

      "I will do that, Harry." Harry walked to the door, stopped, and turned around.

       "Professor, out of curiosity, who was your friend, that worked with you, when you did this?"

       "I don't believe you've ever met him, even though you may think you have," said Dumbledore with a slight smile. "A certain Professor Moody, who was supposed to teach here last year, but got apprehended. You may tell Miss Granger that. Tell her that all these extra lessons will be useful once she graduates, not to mention they are very educational."

      "I'll tell her that Professor," said Harry, smiling slightly. "I'll tell her that."

A/N: The next chapter should be out soon!

  
  



	21. Masquerade

A/N: I have decided, after much deliberation, that I really and truly detest authors notes. They're boring to write, and even more so to read. And yet still, we feel obligated to read them because they may contain something of value pertaining to the story at hand. Normally, it's all about "Thank you to my wonderful beta readers and my pet dog, snookums." Well, I have don't have a pet dog named snookums, or a beta reader. Ironically enough, the only place to rant about my authors note is in my authors note, and it contains nothing of value pertaining to the story at hand. So I might as well stop now, while I'm ahead of the game. 

Disclaimer: Yet again, this is boring to write, boring to read, and contains nothing of value pertaining to the story at hand, yet we are obligated to read and write them, boring as they are, because if we don't, there is a very good chance that we would get sued out of our knickers.  So therefore, because I have nothing of value (regardless of whether or not it pertains to the story at hand) I have the privilege to rant about the disclaimer all I want. (Actually, you could probably sue me for my knickers, but I very much doubt you want them.) Therefore, in order to keep my knickers with me, I will state a simple disclaimer: Nothing that you recognise belongs to me. Now that I've kept the legal representatives happy, I will proceed to continue with the story, as what I am writing right now (as I have stated once or twice before,) contains nothing of value pertaining to the story at hand.

Dedication: To Patricia: My friend, Critic, adviser, personal comedian, consoler, therapist, fashion consultant, and most importantly, sister.

 _Masquerade!_

_Paper faces on parade,_

_Masquerade! _

_Hide your face so the world will never find you._

_Masquerade!_

_Every face a different shade,_

_Masquerade!_

_Look around, there's another mask behind you._

_~"Masquerade" ~The Phantom of the Opera_

            "They're madly in love with each other," Sirius stated, while gesturing toward the left.

"You don't know what you're talking about," said James, squinting in the general direction of Sirius' point.

"They are," repeated Sirius stubbornly.

"No they're not."

 "Yes, they are."

"Are what?" Lily stood behind James. "Oh…" she also squinted in the direction of Sirius' point. "Actually…" She trailed off.

"Lily, if my memory serves me correctly, Sirius' idea of asking a girl out on a date was going up to the Gryffindor table, holding out his arm, and saying, 'This arm's going to the dance on Friday; who wants to be on it?'"

"I remember that," said Lily thoughtfully, "Every girl at the Gryffindor table stampeded out…including me."

"You're really supportive, Lily," Sirius muttered.

"And if_ my_ memory serves me correctly," said Remus, coming up behind them and startling them all, "Padfoot stood up on the bench, offered his left arm, and addressed all the girls in the Great Hall, yelling 'HOW ABOUT THE OTHER ONE?'"

"Always the charmer, weren't you, Sirius," said James, "The hall has never been emptied of girls in so short a time."

"I was eleven years old," said Sirius indignantly. "_Eleven_. My skills at asking people out on dates were not finely tuned to the perfection that they were later."

"Like when you asked that girl if she would buy you a drink, because you said you thought she would look much better when you were flat out drunk?" James asked gleefully.

"That was different," said Sirius stiffly, "And that does not pertain to the matter at hand." He gestured again. 

To the left of him, Harry and Hermione sat arguing over the work that they were supposed to be doing.

"Harry, look, it says right here that Mayan Cake Eaters eat _rocks_. Not cake. Rocks."

"I don't care what it says. They're called Mayan _Cake_ Eaters. Therefore, they have to eat _cake_."

"No! The book says that they eat rocks!"

"But their very name suggests that they eat cake!"

"Do you want to fail this test?!?!"

"At this point, I don't bloody care!"

"Actually, they eat both," Remus said quietly to James.

"I think they're nerves are edgy," said Lily, "seeing as how they both have to lie to Ron now, too."

"AHEM!" said Sirius. "back to the matter at hand."

"No," said James, "That is my final opinion. Hermione happens to be going out with Ron. They cannot be 'madly in love with each other.'"  
  


 "Ah, but they are," insisted Sirius, "Just look at them."

Harry and Hermione had regressed from actually talking like adults to yelling childishly at each other.

"Cake!"

"Rocks!"

_"Cake!"_

_"Rocks!"_

"CAKE!!!!!"

Hermione gave Harry a venomous stare, and said very softly, "_rocks_."

Harry sighed.

"Which kind of rocks?"

Hermione smiled triumphantly.

"Quartz."

"Do you know, when you use that voice you sound like Snape?"

Hermione shoved a quill into Harry's hand.

"Write." She said.

"You know," said Lily, "That's looking very familiar."

Sirius did a double take. "You mean you're on my side of this?" he asked gleefully.

"Not quite," she forced James' head to look in the direction where Harry was writing and muttering (probably obstinacies) under his breath. "What does that look like to you?"

"Harry not having enough backbone?"

"_No_," said Lily forcefully. "Pretend that Hermione had red hair and green eyes. Now what does it look like to you?"

"James not having enough backbone?" said Sirius tactfully.

"That was low Sirius, even for you," said Remus, "But unfortunately, very true. Now James, picture that this is quite a few years ago, Hermione has red hair and green eyes. What do you see?"

"Well…it'd be me and Lily…arguing over that project that we got stuck together with in 5th year when we still hated each other…we argued every other day…"

"Exactly." Said Lily triumphantly. "Contrary to what Sirius thinks, they are not in love."

She grinned evilly. 

"Not yet, anyway. But they will be. If I have any say in it, they will be."

~**~

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm just…you know…about Ron…" Harry sat down on the bed that Lily usually occupied. Hermione looked up from _Demons: Can You Damn Them?_.

"It's alright," she said. "My nerves feel like they're about to snap. If only Ron weren't so bloody oblivious to everything…"

"Actually, considering the circumstances, that's probably a good thing," said Harry.

"But why does this have to be so hard for _us_?" Asked Hermione savagely. "I think I'd be able to lie better if I could actually _pity_ Ron, but no, he so happy, he doesn't have the foggiest idea what he's going through."

"Well, it's been two days," said Harry tiredly. "He has to be asking some questions soon. Why we haven't been to classes for two days and all that."

"We need a plausible story," said Hermione. "Something for him to believe."

"The truth isn't believable at this point Hermione," Harry pointed out, "How will anything that we make up be any better?"

"The fact that you and I are working together all the time does not bode well either," Hermione muttered. "Ron's jealous of you already…" 

"Gah!" said Harry in exasperation, "Why can't I just be _normal_ for once in my life? Why can't I just be a _normal_ wizard at Hogwarts, going to classes, going to a Yule Ball or two, and not bothering to dance, going to Quiddtich games, having fun at Hogsmeade. Why is it always _me_? Harry Potter, go save the world. It may cost you you're best friend, but that's ok too, because it's for the good of the world. Harry Potter go kill Voldemort. Oh, by the way, did we mention that you're a mage? Good, go kill some demons. Of all the people that died, why did _I_ have to be the one that lived?"  
  


"Because," said Hermione simply, "You're Harry Potter. And you will continue to be Harry Potter until you _do_ die, which, whether it be sooner or later, will happen eventually. I'm here to try and prevent it from being sooner.  Why were you chosen, Harry? I don't know, but in someone's big plan, they picked _you._ You have all the qualities of a hero Harry. And saving the world is a huge job. But self pity isn't in the job description. Now I'll tell you something. I don't know whether it's the best of times, or the worst of times, but I do know this. This is the _only_ time you've got. So you can sit on your rear-end, or go pick a daisy."

Harry blinked. "Pick a daisy?"

Hermione grinned. "That was a quote my mum always used to tell me."

"Humph," said Harry. 

~**~

            Referances: 

The "pick a daisy," quote was from the _Graduates Book of Quotes_. I don't remember who quoted it, however. "This arm's going to the dance on Friday," is from my friend Katie. I don't  remember where she got it from, either. _Demons: Can You Damn Them_? The highly original book title is from my little sister, Melissa. 


	22. of more demons

Disclaimer: If I owned everything that belongs to J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't be writing for fanfiction.net.

Dedication: To Dumbledorevna. Everything that she writes makes my work look like rubbish, which makes me appreciate her all the more. (If you would like to read her story, it's in my "favourite story" file under my bio.)

            _Look at me, you may think you see who I really am,_

_            But you'll never know me_

_            Everyday, it's as if I play a part,_

_            Now I see, if I wear a mask I can fool the world,_

_            But I cannot fool my heart._

_            Whose is that face I see,_

_            Staring straight, back at me,_

_            Why is my reflection someone I don't know?_

_            Some how, I cannot hide, who I am, though I tried,_

_            When will my reflection show who I am inside?_

_            When will my reflection show, who I am inside?_

_                                                                ~"Reflection" from Mulan _

  
            Harry sat sitting at a table, surrounded by a pile of books.  He had never thought that he would have gone as far around the bend as he had…actually _studying_ for exams…but, he supposed, that was the effect that working with Hermione had on him. He opened his copy of _Demons: Can You Damn Them?_ which he had borrowed from Hermione and began to read. He'd be facing two demons tomorrow; one from the second predicent and one from the third, and he wasn't exactly happy about it. It just goes to show that you should never tell your parents that one demon is too easy. He sighed, and hoped Hermione would come back soon from the library, to provide some form of distraction. Not that it would be much, but just to _talk_ to someone…anyone…instead of reading that bloody book…

            "Hey Harry," said Ron, coming up behind him and sitting on a chair. Harry fought the urge to hit himself over the head with the said book, and made a mental note to be more selective about _whom_ he wanted to talk to. Ron was, quite frankly, ranking just below Draco Malfoy, and just above Snape and Voldemort. Harry and Hermione hadn't thought of anything plausible to tell him, so Harry had taken to avoiding Ron whenever he came into the common room, until something could be thought of.

            "Hi Ron," Harry forced a smile, and looked back down at his book, hoping he looked buried in work, and not very approachable.

            "What're you doing?" 

            So much for looking unapproachable.

            "I have a huge essay due soon," said Harry tightly.

            "With who? Harry, you haven't been to classes in three days."

            "I know," oh, why didn't Hermione come back yet? Anything was better than this…

            "Well, why not?" Ron looked closely at Harry, who was still looking down at his book. "Hey," he said, "is anything wrong?"

            Hermione walked in the portrait hole with another pile of books.  

            Harry gave a mental sigh of relief.

            "Hi," He said, hopping up and grabbing some of the books that tottered dangerously at the top of her pile. 

            "Hi," said Hermione, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at the unexpected warm welcome. Harry gave a practically imperceptible gesture in Ron's direction with his head. Hermione's eyes widened. She quickly hurried over to the table, and dropped the pile of books on it. 

            Now it was Ron's eyes that were narrowing suspiciously.

            "Alright, what's going on?" he said. 

            "Do you want to tell him, Harry?" Asked Hermione.

            Harry shook his head in an empathetic _no_.

            "Well, you see…" Hermione trailed off, and seemed to gather her thoughts. "What's happening is…" She stopped again.

            "Hermione and I are going to be aurors," Harry blurted out. 

            Hermione blinked.

            "What?" asked Ron.

            "We didn't want to tell you because we were afraid that you would be upset," said Hermione, while Harry nodded vigorously in agreement.

            "And, you see, we have to take all these extra classes from Professor Lupin…and…Sirius…and…" Harry trailed off again, silently asking help from Hermione.

            "And…Dumbledore," added Hermione. "You know, with all the you-know-who stuff that happened last year, they wanted to start training people a little early…and…"

            "Well, they picked Hermione because she was head of the class…and…they picked me because…" Harry trailed off again, at a loss for something to say. "Well, quite frankly, I'm not sure what good I'll do them…after all, people do seem to keep dying if they hang around with me too long…"

            "They picked you because you're _Harry Potter_." Said Ron quietly, excepting what he supposed he would have to be dealing with if he continued to be friends with Harry. It didn't mean he had to like it, of course.

            "I get it," he said bitterly, "after all, I'm normally just some dumb git along for the ride."

            "No, that's not it…"

            "_Ron_…"

            Ron stood up. "I suppose you have to finish your essay," he said. "I'm going to bed. See you in the morning," and with that, he walked up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

            "That went well," said Harry sarcastically. "Now what do we do?" 

            "Study," said Hermione firmly, pushing a book at Harry.

            "Bugger to that," he said snidely. "I'm going to bed."

            Hermione sighed and picked up a book.

~**~

            "Alright everyone, you know the drill," said James. "Two demons in there now. One from the second predicent, and one from the third. I'll give you a count off, and open the door, and you run in. We'll give you thirty minutes this time around, because you have more demons this time. Have fun." 

            Harry looked tense. Hermione looked like she was about to be sick all over.

            "Are you alright?" Lily whispered to Hermione.

            "I'm fine," she said tightly, gritting her teeth. "I'm alright. I'm fine, I just didn't get much sleep last night is all."

            Lily nodded sympathetically. "Well," she said, "at least you're not doing the fighting."

            "Quite," said Hermione.

            "Are you ready?" said James. Harry and Hermione nodded. "Alright then," he said. "One, two, three…"

            And he opened the door.

~**~

            And promptly shut it again, after Harry and Hermione had run inside. This room was larger, with more chairs, and tempting teddy bears placed here and there to lure out the demons. Harry and Hermione looked around. Harry spotted the first one. It had a flat, earless, head, and its entire body was covered in what appeared to be mould. Fuzzy, green mould. Here and there, there were splotches of grey, which gave it the appearance of a moss coloured boulder. It's eyes cast down, Harry couldn't see the colour of them, but he supposed it would be something equally unalarming as the demon itself. He barely stifled a giggle. Hermione elbowed him sharply, and gave him a look that was reminiscent of Professor McGonagall. Well, this was easy enough. One merely had to talk to the demon to know which predicent it was from. It all depended on how politely it responded to "hello." If you let it talk for too long, it could take advantage of you, as Harry had found out. 

            "Hello," said Harry.

            "'Ello," the demon muttered. It ventured a look up, which revealed its eyes to be a very soft shade of pale pink, which clashed horribly with the moss green. It had a cockney accent, and was, yet again, not as alarming as a proper demon should be. "What in the blazes do you want?" It demanded. 

            "Nothing," said Harry, grinning cockily. "Nothing at all. I damn thee to the second predicent. _Dante_." And with that, it vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving behind it a tormented sigh. Harry looked around for the next one. 

            "You know, this is very easy," he said.

            "Famous last words," muttered Hermione.

            The next demon was quickly found. It had snuck out to steal one of the teddy bears, and had scorched a chair in the process. It was round, incredibly so, and gave Harry the odd impression of a cream puff. It was a pale brown all over, except in the middle, where it had tiny white-hot flames that danced around the exact centre, like a tutu. It didn't have any perceptible head or neck, it's face was just above the ring around it's middle, and on the very top of it, it had more white hot flames, which curled in a way that made it look like more cream on top. Just looking at it made Harry very hungry.

            The demon was looking extremely shifty, it had hidden the bear behind it's back and was edging away behind a chair, except it stopped when the upholstery caught on fire from it's cream-hair.  Hermione put it out with her wand. The demon jumped at the water, and looked up. It's eyes were an unalarming shade of pale yellow. 

            "Wot do you want?" It had a ghastly accent, Hermione couldn't place it. Whatever it was, she wanted it gone. Harry, apparently, didn't want it either. He didn't even bother to say Hello.

            "I damn thee to the third predicent," he said swiftly. "_Dante._"  And the demon, yet again, vanished, with a small cry and a "pop," similar to that of apparition.

            "Hah," said Harry, "That was not famous last words. Nothing happened…"

            "I beg to differ," said a voice smoothly. The voice sent shivers down Hermione spine. It was an educated voice, one that had the ring of Eton about it. It was a silky, perfect baritone, made all the more imposing by its very perfection. Harry turned around. After bracing herself, so did Hermione. 

            It was a demon, one that Hermione had never seen before, not even in textbooks. But it wasn't comical, it wasn't even remotely amusing. It was the type of demon who made nightmares. It had shoes shined to such perfection that Hermione could see her reflection in them. Above those shoes was a black suit; something better than even Armani could produce, so evenly tailored it fit like a glove on the demons long, slender body. Under the jacket was a crisp white shirt, and a silvery-grey tie, with no pattern. It had an extraordinarily handsome face with black hair that was slicked back. It was its eyes that made the creature so imposing. The eyes had enlarged pupils, so enlarged that you almost could not see the eye colour. Around those extraordinary pupils was a very thin band of red.  It had the poise of a dancer, the class of James Bond, the attitude of Attila the Hun, and eyes, (in the demon's words,) reminiscent of the fiery gates of Hell. It was a thing of nightmares. Hermione almost lost it.

            Harry did not. 

            "Hello," he said coolly.

            "Don't try and play your little games with me, Harry Potter," said the demon softly. Harry paled. If the demon knew his name, Harry could be sent to Hell, regardless of whether or not he was a mage. 

            "What do you want?" Harry asked, now feeling considerably less cocky.

            "Would it be too clichéd if I asked for your soul?" The demon laughed softly. "If I prey upon your worst nightmares, what would I find, Harry Potter?"

            Harry blanched more. The continual use of his name completely unnerved him.

            "I could suck your soul right out of you and send it to Hell," said the demon. "I think my master would like that, quite a lot."

            _Master_…thought Hermione. A demon that was called to serve a master was always the sixth predicent. While she knew this, she knew Harry did not. _He should have read last night,_ she thought furiously. The information was no good to her. And all the while Harry was getting even more mesmerized by that silky, perfect voice.

            "For that is your worst nightmare, is it not?" It laughed again. 

            "No," said Harry bravely.

            "No, you are quite right, it's not," the demon smiled, it was so deliciously frigid, so horribly polite, a smile that you might expect to find at an unwanted dinner party. "But what if I sucked the soul out of your charming little _amour_?" He turned that frigid smile on to Hermione. "What if I made you watch every delicious torment that Hell has to offer, forced you to watch _her_ screaming in agony, wanting to die, before I sucked out her soul. And then I let you live with the guilt that _you did not save her_. Hell on Earth, am I correct Harry Potter?"

            "_No_," said Harry hoarsely. "Let her go. Please, take me, just promise to let her go."

            "Master will be pleased with that bargain," said the Demon.  "After all, he always keeps his promises."

            "Harry, _no,_" cried Hermione. "The world can't beat Voldemort if they lose you, you can't make that bargain, you can't."

            "I can," said Harry, a steely note in his voice. "I can and I will." He threw aside his wand. "Alright," he said, "Take me. Take me to Voldemort, suck out my soul, I don't care."

            "Excellent choice, Harry Potter," said the demon. 

            "_No!_" said Hermione. The demon grabbed hold of Harry, pulled him into a bruising grip. He suddenly reached straight into Harry's chest, right where his heart would be. Harry screamed. It was blood-curdling, something that Hermione never hoped to hear again. And that's when she came to her senses. 

            "I damn thee to the sixth predicent," she said levelly, holding out her wand. The demon laughed, soft and cruel. 

            "You think so?" He asked. "What could you, a mudblood witch, possibly do to me?"

            Harry looked at her, and then back at the demon, who still had him in that death grip. "Famous last words," he said through gritted teeth.

            "_Dante_," said Hermione. She felt a pulse of white-hot fire travel through her body, up her arm, and into her wand. The demon dropped Harry as if hit by lighting, and vanished eerily without a sound. 

            Hermione had a sudden need to sit down. She collapsed. Right next to where Harry was already on the ground. Black darkened the corners of her vision, and she shook herself, keeping the dark at bay.

            "Herm," said Harry hoarsely, looking up at her from the floor. "Herm, you're a mage."

            "Rubbish," said Hermione.

            "You are, you couldn't have done that otherwise," persisted Harry. He grabbed her arm. Hard. "You can't tell _anyone_ about this. Not my mum, not my dad, not your parents, not Dumbledore. Because if you-know-who finds out, you are dead. Just like my mum and dad. Dead. You can't die, Hermione."

            "I won't tell," said Hermione softly. "I promise."

            "I'll teach you, if you like," said Harry, "during breaks, and all. You'll get it faster than I will."

            "Alright then," said Hermione. "It could be…educational…you know…" The blackness was clouding her vision again. Harry's eyes were looking foggy as well. Then they both slumped to the floor.

~**~


	23. Of Pink Offices

A/N: My dear smile7499: Please update your cat on its shots. I have no desire to be attacked by a mad cat, but if this desire cannot be met, than I would rather have a mad cat attack me with its shots than without them. Because, as I have stated before, I do support H/Hr pairings. And, as many other reviewers have commented, I have just set this story up to be an H/Hr story. You fill in the details. My apologies that your preferences are unlike my own, but if you would like, I will state why I think Harry and Hermione should be together, and why I'm doing it the way I am. (There will be NO spoilers in what I am about to say. If you don't wish to read this, skip down to the story part.) Smile7499 was right about something. People say that Harry and Hermione's relationship is good, because they don't argue. This is incorrect. As my mother, (who happens to have a masters degree in physiology,) would say, a healthy relationship must have arguments. I honestly don't think Harry knows Hermione as well as he think he does, and therefore, they don't argue as much. However, if they are forced together everyday, there will be arguments, (as you have already seen.) I see that Ron/Hermione pairings are inevitable, and so included it in my story. But I do not think that they will stay together for very long. Healthy relationships have arguments, however, they do not have arguments all the time. Can you imagine what would happen if Hermione and Ron lived in one house together; look at how explosive they are in one school. They would drive each other mad. It would not be a peaceful marriage, as some people depict it to be. There would be a divorce within three months. They do not have compatible personalities. Some say opposites attract, but that is hardly true. You must be somewhat similar in order to get along, and I think Hermione and Harry's personalities are much more compatible than Hermione and Ron. With Hermione and Harry, he can tolerate her nitpicking, while getting her to do something fun. She would be able to keep him in line, and go along with whatever he had in mind. (After all, she did think up the polyjuice sceme all by herself.) I believe that their chemistry can change, once he gets over Cho. Those are my reasons, and I find them good ones. Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: Nothing related to Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, Warner brothers, or Bloomsbury publishing belongs to me. The rest of the world, however, does. :)

Dedication: To the people who saved lives, risked their lives, or gave their lives, to September 11, last year. And to Smile7499…so she will love me anyway, and not set her attack cat on me. :)

 _In the beginning,_

_There was the cold and the night,_

_Prophets and Angels, gave us the fire, and the light,_

_Man was triumphant, _

_Armed with the faith and the will…_

_That even the darkest ages couldn't kill._

_~Billy Joel. "Two Thousand Years.'_

      "No, no, no, Hermione, do it again. You can pick it up, I promise." Harry ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "Listen, it's like a summoning charm, except you don't have a wand. You don't even have to say anything. You just beckon to it. Look," He waved slightly. An inkbottle came sailing across the room, landing neatly in his hand.

      "I'm not a mage, Harry," said Hermione for what seemed like the zillionth time that day. "Maybe I just got lucky. I can't do any of this."

      "You promised," said Harry firmly, glaring at her. "You said you'd practice. I may have to threaten you with a dragon if you don't learn this." Hermione gave a wan smile, acknowledging the irony of the situation, their roles being reversed.

      "I've done nothing except accumulate a blistering headache in the last fifteen minutes." She put her head in her hands. "I'm not a mage." Harry walked over and put a hand on her head.

      "Heal," he said brusquely. Hermione looked up bemusedly. 

      "Wait…" her jaw dropped in amazement, making Harry laugh in spite of himself. "How did you…what…my headache's gone," she said helplessly, not knowing what else to say.

      "It's a healing charm," said Harry, "It can't do anything large, like cure a tumour, unless you really concentrate, but it can heal sprained ankles, headaches, broken bones, things like that. I found it in this," He lifted up a ratty old book, one that looked fit for a dustbin. In peeling gold letters, the title proclaimed, _Pages of Mages through the Ages_. "You just stick your hand over whatever hurts and say 'heal.' Not very complicated, is it?" Harry grinned. 

      "Well that will come in useful," said Hermione. 

      "Good, why don't you try it on me?" Harry grinned again. It was a very James-like grin. One that meant they were headed for disaster. One that meant they were headed for _calculated_ disaster. One that meant about four people and a grindelow were going to get sent to the hospital wing within the next fifteen minutes, whether or not plans went awry. "Come on," he said, hopping up. "I'll do something that will give me a headache, and you can fix it."

      "_No_," said Hermione firmly. 

      "Oh, it'll be fun."

      "_No,_" said Hermione again.

      "I know," said Harry cheerfully. "I'll change all of the walls in Sirius' room to pink. I haven't worked on changing objects yet, just hair and eyes and stuff. Plus, he hates pink."

      "_No_," said Hermione. Harry wasn't listening. He was already out the door.

      "Bugger," said Hermione. She could feel her headache coming back. Or maybe that was just the feeling of calculated disaster, coming her way.

~**~

            By the time Hermione had found Harry, there was flamingo-coloured paint splattered on two of the walls, the ceiling, and he was wincing. 

            "Harry," said Hermione in horror, looking around. "Harry, this isn't…"

            The door opened.

~**~

            Harry had no idea Professor McGonagall's mouth could open that wide. Or that her lips could completely disappear, when she finally composed herself to press them together. Or that so much controlled fury could be in one place. 

            "_Just what do you think you are doing, Mr Potter_?" she asked dangerously, her nostrils flared.

            "I…um…" Harry couldn't think properly, his head was killing him. "I wanted to play a little prank on Sirius," he said weakly. 

            "Do you think Mr. Black comes into _my office_ often, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall's voice was extremely soft, even more dangerous than a scream. Harry braced himself.

            "I thought that this was his office, Professor," he said, hoping he looked innocent.

"Never, in all my years teaching here, _never_ has the student had the _audacity to ruin my office!_ And yes, Potter, including your father!" Her voice was piercing. Harry hoped for the sake of his headache that it would stop soon. 

            "I regret that I can no longer take points from your house, since you are no longer enrolled in this school," she said, her voice soft again. "However, you _will_ be receiving a detention. Tonight."

            "But Professor," started Hermione, horrified. If they had detention tonight, there was no way Harry could teach her that summoning thing.

            "_And you as well Miss Granger!"_

            "Hermione didn't…" Harry started.

             "But she watched you do it, and did not stop you," countered Professor McGonagall.

            "Well, she tried," Harry began again. 

            "Only one detention Professor?" Hermione asked, surprised.

            "Just one," said the Professor. "Do you like divination, Potter?" Harry was thrown. What did that have to do with anything?

            "No," he said warily. 

            "Good," said Professor McGonagall. "Because that is where your detention will be. You will sort through all the prophecies in the divination tower and alphabetise them." Hermione looked horrified.

            "But Professor…Professor Trelawny keeps every prophecy a student writes! You can't expect us to…" 

            "I can and I will," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "Both you and Mr Potter will be up in the divination tower tonight until the task is done. I will see to it that Professor Trelawny does not bother you."

            Calculated disaster. That's all it was, thought Hermione gloomily. Calculated disaster.

~**~

"You did _what?_" James laughed so hard, he had to sit down. 

"Accidentally painted some of Professor McGonagall's office pink," said Harry apologetically. "I thought it was Sirius' office!"

      "That _wonderful_!" James cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, "That's…absolutely…how did you do it?" He roared again with laughter, pounding on his bed with his fist. 

      "You're not angry that I got a detention?" Harry asked, slightly surprised. All fathers he knew would be horrified if their son painted a professor's office pink.

      "Are you joking?" James sat up suddenly. "You are talking to the man who holds the record for largest amount of detentions in one month. I want to know, how you did it! I wish I had thought of that back then. Why didn't you take me with you?" He asked, suddenly petulant. Harry stared at him, before realising exactly how young James was. Someone only eighteen years old would have to appreciate a Professor office suddenly pink. A normal dad would not. But then again, James was not a normal dad. 

      "Oh, I just planned ahead a bit," said Harry airily, "Just enough to realise that Professor McGonagall is not thick enough to believe that there are two of me and only one of Hermione."

      "Ah, I suppose so," said James with a sigh. "So, what are you doing for detention?"

      "Sorting through all the divination prophecies and alphabetising them." James grimaced.

      "I had that one once. In fourth year. I don't quite remember what I did, but it was five in the morning when I went to bed," he smiled, "I'll give you the morning classes off, just for the sheer brilliance of your plan." Harry gaped again. How many fathers would give their children school off for a brilliant plan that got them a detention?

      "Thanks Dad!" he said, smiling happily. "Thanks a lot."

~**~

      He was not, however, smiling later that night. Harry and Hermione sat in a pile of papers, which, apparently, had not be organised since James had last did it. And it looked like he didn't do a very good job. Haphazard chunks of paper lay around the room, stacked in boxes, closets, trunks, and several were hidden beneath the cushions of the poufs. Hermione even found a few crumpled into a broken crystal ball. 

      "We're _never_ going to finish this," Harry groaned. "Look at it all! There must be millions of papers here. I don't even know if we got them all."

      Hermione glared at him.

      "This isn't _my_ fault you know," she snapped. "_I_ wasn't the one who got the brilliant idea to paint Professor McGonagall's office pink."

      "Well I didn't know it was her office, did I?" said Harry equally annoyed.

      "Well if it wasn't your fault, whose was it?" Hermione asked angrily.

      "It was…" Harry picked up a piece of paper and cleared his throat. "A conjunction of Venus and Jupiter, subdivided with the stars of urethra's dogs." 

      Hermione giggled slightly. "What kind of rubbish is that?" she asked. "Urethra's dogs? Who is Urethra?"

      "I don't know," said Harry, "but apparently someone important. They got an 'A' on this one."

      "Listen to this one," said Hermione, picking up a new paper, "The night when the bubblehead smacks…and when the…treacle tart…thwacks…I can't even read this. It's scribble…" She laughed. "It got an 'A+!'"

      "And this one is complete rubbish," said Harry, grinning as well, "When Venus is in the two hundred and eleventh house…"

      "Two hundred and eleventh house?" Hermione asked, laughing even more.

      "Yeah," said Harry, "When Venus is in the two hundred and eleventh house I will get trampled by a rampaging bug bear, and afterwards get eaten by a carnivorous flobberworm…hey wait a minute!" He squinted at the name at the top of the page. "I wrote this one!" Which made Hermione fall over from laughing.

      "Here, this one failed!" she said, picking up another one. "I wonder what they wrote. Professor Trelawny said…" Hermione squinted at the cramped handwriting, "'Not vague enough! This is divination, not a poetry contest! I wonder what they wrote…" she cleared her throat and began to read. "The flower and stag's death begin the quest…" She suddenly frowned, reading the rest of the paragraph. "Harry," she said, paling slightly, "this is a real one…this one's about you."

      "Rubbish," said Harry, laughing, "You must be mad to think that you could have me on like that."

      "No," said Hermione soberly. "Listen."

_The flower and stag's death begin the quest,_

_Their boy who lived finishes the rest,_

_And brings about the dark lords fall,_

_After the rat betrays them all._

_The dog is innocent of the rat's crime,_

_But is imprisoned, until the time,_

_The wolf begins to teach at last,_

_While the one who lived finds out the past,_

_The rat betrays yet once more still,_

_The wolf, the dog, must wait until,_

_The rat's true sins can be atoned,_

_While the one who lived faces dark alone._

      "It's third and fourth year…most of it anyway," said Harry. "Fancy that…if only Trelawny had paid attention to that, she could have taken credit for it."

      "There's more," said Hermione. 

_A trio, one son of the marauding four_,

_A boy who lived, whom worlds adore._

_Must face the ending to the quest,_

_The twain of light and dark-a test._

_A clever one, whose wits and skill,_

_Will keep them from impending ill._

_A hero, one who's brave and bold,_

_Will save all, after one who's old._

A side-kick who will play the part, 

_Of a martyr's role, and a diviner's heart._

_Yet still one more will join the three,_

_Of dark and light conflicting he._

      _And yet, a hero in his own right,_

_If he does try to side with light._

_Two will fall for the clever one,_

_The hero and the seventh son,_

_One will love much and will let go,_

_One will love more, and live, and grow.     _  
 

      "Well that's cheerful," said Harry sarcastically. "It describes us to a tee…except Ron. Maybe he's the fourth one…"

      "I don't think so, Harry," said Hermione, shaking her head. "I don't know where Ron is in this."

      "Well…maybe the second bit's wrong," suggested Harry hopefully.

      "No," said Hermione with a sigh, "If one part of a prophecy is right, then it is all right. You can have wrong prophecies, but not ones that are half wrong."

      "Oh," said Harry. "Well, maybe it's a hoax. Maybe it was written this year. What's the name of the person?"

      "Someone named…Kaitlyn Rebboltz." Said Hermione, frowning at the signature.

      "Any date on it?"

      "No, but we can find out the date anyway." Hermione tapped the parchment with her wand. "_Ad_," she said simply. "If the date is before 1986, we'll know it's not a…" she stopped. In flowing red letters, written at the top of the page, stood a date. They sat and stared at it.

      **_1981._**

~**~


	24. Of Sadistic Grins and More Calculated Di...

A/N: This chapter is a nothing chapter. What you will read is a whole lot of nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing! And yet, I have to write it, because it's a transition chapter, and the nothing has to happen. So this will be a bad chapter, I can assure you. I can also assure you that they will get better after this. My dear Smile7499: Thank you for the wonderful review! Thanks to everybody for the wonderful reviews! But, to Smile7499: You may not be converted yet, but you will.  Also to WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Nair in the shampoo huh? Hmmm…sounds like a good idea…:)

Disclaimer: I am not attempting to steal anything of J.K. Rowling's. I am just borrowing her characters for a while. I promise to give them back when I'm done.

Dedication: To Kylie, aka Shaniqua Sparkle, who has given me so many laughs, and to the hope that there will be time for many more.

_Matchmaker, Matchmaker, make me a match,_

_Find me a find,_

_Catch me a catch,_

_Matchmaker, Matchmaker, look through your book,_

_And make me a perfect match._

_            ~Fiddler On The Roof_

            Harry and Hermione were quite groggy when they woke up the next morning. They really shouldn't have been under normal circumstances; it was three o'clock in the afternoon, after all. However, they were up until four thirty in the morning the last night. It really shouldn't have taken that long, thought Harry, as he stumbled down to the common room. But they had spent most of the night trying to figure out that bloody prophecy. Hermione stumbled down the stairs opposite to him, looking quite as bad as Harry himself supposed he looked. 

            "Did any sudden inspiration come to you?" he asked fuzzily, trying to clear his head.

            "No," Hermione sighed. "Nothing. I don't know what the stupid thing is talking about."

            "That's alright. I wonder what the house elves have in the way of breakfast."

            "Lunch, you mean," Hermione reminded him.

            "Tea, actually," said Harry. "It really is closer to tea than it is to lunch. What is our first class? I don't remember…"

            "Charms," said Hermione. "We have Charms with your mum."

            "The kitchens first," said Harry. "Then Charms."

~**~

            "Harry," said Lily firmly, staring at him. "Harry, I want you to levitate me. No wand."

            "_Mum_," said Harry in horror. "I _can't_! What if I drop you? Dad will never forgive me! He'll shut me in my room and never let me play Quiddtich and make me study all the time and won't let me paint any more offices pink and…"

            "Is that why you were in detention?" asked Lily severely. Harry swallowed.

            "I'd rather not say at the present time," he said stiffly.

            "Hah," said Lily with an evil glint in her eye. "I will punish you further if you don't levitate me."

            "Mum, please…I don't want to drop you."

            "You'd better not, especially since you'll be trying to levitate Hermione next."

            _"What?"_ Asked Hermione, jumping up.

            "You two will be working together for a very long time," said Lily firmly. "You have to learn to cooperate. What if something happens where something is up high and you can't reach it and you don't have your wand? What do you do then? It could be a life or death situation. That is the way you have to think, both of you. Someone is almost always going to be after you and everything that we teach you are going to help you so you won't get caught."

            "Constant vigilance," Harry murmured. Ron would have appreciated that comment. Hermione did not. She gave him a swift kick under the desk.

            "Now, just try it," said Lily. "Just look at me and concentrate all your thoughts upwards." Harry stared at Lily very hard. Lily stayed firmly on the ground.

            "This isn't working," Harry muttered.

            "Do it again," said Lily. "You will continue to do it until you can." Harry stared at Lily. Lily stayed firmly on the ground.

            Harry sighed.    

            "Try it again," said Lily. Lily continued to stay firmly on the ground.  Sirius burst in. Harry gave a mental sigh of relief.

            "Lily," he said breathlessly, "Lily, James and I had this wonderful idea."

            "No you didn't," said Lily. "Try it again, Harry."

            "Oh, but we did," Sirius insisted. "Honestly, I promise we did."

            "Your last great idea…well, I can't remember your last great idea. I don't think you've ever had one. Plenty of stupid ones have come along, though."

            Sirius looked slightly hurt.

            "No, this is a great idea," he insisted. "James wants to tell you about it too. He and Remus are right outside."

            Lily sighed.

            "Alright," she said. "Harry, keep practicing." She followed Sirius out the door, and shut it. 

            "Bugger," said Harry. "I wonder…" he looked up. There was a window, one about ten feet above their heads, over the door. 

            "Harry, no," said Hermione firmly. "Lily said to keep practicing."

            "I fully intend to," said Harry, grinning slightly. He looked up at the window again.

            "No, Harry, please," said Hermione.

            "If I got you up there, would you tell me what was going on?"

            "No." 

            "Oh yes you would."

            "Fine. As long as it's practicing. And you don't drop me."

            "I won't, I promise. Ready?" Harry stared at her, concentrating. Hermione began to float, perhaps four feet up in the air. She went higher until she reached the window. And then she looked down.

            "Harry Potter!" she said, glaring at him. "Harry Potter, I don't like this at all. Put me down!"

            Harry was enjoying himself immensely, smiling at her as she glared at him, until he felt himself rising off the ground as well. He yelped.

            "Hermione! What are you doing?" She dropped several feet as he lost concentration. Harry caught himself, and tried again. She rose to his height.

            "Ha!" she said, looking very pleased with herself. "I did it. I didn't think I could."

            "You are a mage," said Harry, resisting the urge to say 'I told you so.' He lost. "I told you so."

            "Hmm," said Hermione, looking through the window. Sirius was being…well…Sirius. He was gesturing wildly in every direction. Lily and James were laughing. Remus was nodding in agreement. Harry had a hideous sense of foreboding. It looked as though Hermione had had one too. 

            "I'll put you down," she said, "And then you put me down. Hurry up about it, they're coming in." Harry's feet had barely touched the ground when the door opened. 

            "I did it," he said, attempting to look pleased with himself.

            "Good," said Lily vaguely,  "Now bring her back down. We have to talk to you."

            Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. Something was up.

~**~  
  


            "You two do remember that you would be taking muggle studies after you started your regular classes. Well, you start your muggle studies today." James grinned evilly. Hermione suddenly sensed more calculated disaster.

            "So what do we do?" asked Harry. "Learn how to use the telephone."

            "I expect you are both quite proficient in the usage of the telephone," said Lily briskly. "What you are taking is really a combination of acting lessons and very, very advanced muggle studies."

            "As an auror you must be able to impersonate almost every job in the world," said Sirius. "This is nearly impossible, but you have to have a good enough try in everything. Harry, it should be simpler for you. Mages pick up things very easily."

            Harry shot a significant glance at Hermione. She ignored him.

            "You will learn to act, impersonate, sing, play various instruments, work with a computer, learn several different ways of fighting, learn how to manage a business, learn several different languages, and dance."

            "Dance?" said Harry incredulously.

            "Yes," said Sirius with a sadistic grin. "Dance."

            "I don't dance," said Harry firmly. "I've only danced once in my life, and Parvati was steering."

            "Oh, you'll learn," said James happily. "We all had to. Ballet, Ballroom, Jazz, Tap…aurors are often sent to West End or Broadway because there are plenty of improper uses of magic in the lighting and special effects. Often time's aurors are sent to investigate, and they have to impersonate an actor or a musician in the pit until they have enough evidence. The singing, dancing and acting are one of the most important things they learn."

            Harry blinked several times and swallowed. What has Ron to be jealous of now? He thought.

            "We thought that we would start easy on you," said Lily. "You'll also be reading all sorts of muggle literature, things that all muggles have to read in their schools. We thought that we would start off with something nice and easy."

            "Dickens?" Asked Hermione hopefully.

            "Wrong," said Remus, "That'll be later."

            Now it was Lily who wore the sadistic grin. "You'll be performing as scene or two, but you'll have to read the entire thing." She said. "You have to design the sets, build them, and paint them, but most importantly, you have to act your part. With no magical help. We will be reading Shakespeare."

            Harry let out an audible sigh of relief. His dad would give him a break on this one, he knew it. It would be either _Julius Caesar _or _Richard the III_. A nice war story.

            Lily's sadistic grin grew, if possible, wider. Sirius, James, and Remus' faces were in an unconscious echo of Lily's. She held out two books to Harry and Hermione, grinning all the more.

            Harry groaned. Or not. He stared at the front cover, unable to comprehend that his own loving parents would do something to him like this. Hermione shot a swift glance at Harry, and then back to the cover of her book again. In bold, black letters stood the words:

                        **_Romeo and Juliet_**       

~**~

A/N: Ok, who saw that one coming? I know, it was blatantly obvious, but I couldn't help myself. :) Anyway, I am now on a vendetta against idiots. It's quite fun, actually. I was reading an article, and one person actually had the nerve to compare Lord of the Rings to Harry Potter, and say that LOTR was not occult, and that HP was full of black magic and evil things and was poisoning children's minds. Now honestly. If wizards are so evil, than why is GANDALF of all people good? I honestly don't have anything against LOTR, I read them once, and I prefer Harry Potter, but each to his own. However, when you criticise my Harry Potter, I am a force to be reckoned with. And honestly, what kind of IDIOTS are out there that they think, "Harry Potter is evil." Actually, I'll let you read the quote for yourself. You tell me what you think.

            _The Harry potter books do exactly the opposite; they teach children that good characters lie, use dark magic, brew disgusting potions, and employ supernatural means to violate nature. In Tolkien's world, the magic his good characters use is not akin the occult, but to the sacraments._

            Excuse me, but does not Gandalf "employ supernatural means to violate nature?" Yes, this moronic idiot was comparing Harry Potter to Lord of the Rings. And I happen to be a good Catholic girl, and I see no indication of  "the sacraments," any more than I see it in Harry Potter. I would like to have a little chat with her. Since I am obviously one of the poor unfortunates who have already had her brain poisoned, it won't really matter that I come in close contact with such an idiot. I assume that I am so poisoned that the idiocy won't rub off. 


	25. In Which Cho is Dealt With

A/N: No more nothing chapters. Now it's all going to be action, I promise. At least, I hope so. The characters are threatening mutiny. (Especially Harry and Hermione. They are demanding to know what they did to deserve _that_. They were being thick-headed gits, that's all.) This chapter would be called a "dark" chapter under normal circumstances, but…well…lets just say I've been dying for this to happen since…oh…Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. :)

Dedicated to my sister Melissa, who helps me come up with witty book titles.

Chapter 25:

In which Cho is dealt with.

_If you see a man who's raging,_

_And he jealous and he fears,_

_That you've walked through walls_

_He's hid behind for years,_

_What you do then is you force yourself_

_To wait it out and say,_

_It's this day not me, that's bound to go away,_

_Child hold on,_

_It's this day not you, that's bound to go away._

_            ~Hold on: from The Secret Garden_

            "Now, what you do is you reach up for that latch thingy…do you feel it?"

            Hermione groped the air. "No."

            "Keep looking for it."

            "Alright, I've found it now."

            "Good. I want you to concentrate really hard on what that person looks like. Memorise everything about them. Try to think of every little detail. Do you have a picture in your head?"

            "Yes."

            "Good, now grab the latch and pull down." Hermione obediently did so.

            "GAH!" Harry stumbled backwards. Before him was a living replica of Rita Skeeter. She grinned.

            "I'll bet you didn't see that one coming, did you?" she asked, in Hermione's voice.

            "No," said Harry, stunned. "Now change back. Hurry. I don't know if I could look at you much longer."

            With a quick tug, Hermione became her normal self again. 

            "Don't do that again," said Harry. "Please don't do that again."

            "Ha," said Hermione smugly. "Now I have the perfect blackmail. If you ever get me a detention again, I will personally wake you up as Rita herself."

            Harry shuddered. "Rita Skeeter at six in the morning.  Dear God…"

            ~**~

            "D'you know, it's awfully quiet around here," said Hermione, as they walked out of the unused classroom. "It's supposed to be lunch for everybody else…lots of people should be in the corridor. Not just us."

            "Hmm," said Harry. "Did we miss something?"

            "Maybe your watch is wrong."

            "No," said Harry, frowning slightly. "It's not. I got it fixed. Right before I came back this year. It was broken after I took that swim in the lake."

            "I don't know then. But something has to be going on." They walked up to the portrait hole, said a cursory "hello," to the Fat Lady, followed by the password: "Snickleway." Ron was pacing in front of the portrait hole on the inside, and rushed to meet them. He helped Hermione through the doorway, hugging her tightly. Harry climbed in after them. 

            "Ron, are you alright?" asked Hermione, who sounded like she was losing a considerable amount of air, fast. "Because if you're not, I'd be happy to talk to you. But otherwise, I'd really like to breathe."

            "I thought you were dead," he muttered indistinctly into her hair. "I honestly thought you were dead."

            "Well I'm not dead," she said, pulling away and staring at him. "Why would you think something like that?"

            "It's Cho. Cho Chang. That Ravenclaw seeker. She's dead. I thought you were dead too. She was in Herbology, and then she just disappeared. Just like apparition. With a pop, she was just gone."

            "But Ron," said Hermione, staring concernedly at him, "You can't apperate on the Hogwarts grounds."

            "I know, I know," said Ron, "But she did. I dunno how she managed it, but she did. They found her right outside the forbidden forest, only, Hermione, that wasn't the worst of it. Even though she was dead, she had a cut on her forehead. Made with a knife or something, because it was jagged, and still bleeding. She was completely unmarked otherwise." 

            "Well, she must have fallen or something, hit her head," said Hermione.

            "No," Ron shook his head vehemently, "No, because it wouldn't have killed her. It was that cut, Hermione. It was in the shape of a _lighting bolt._"

            "Oh God…" Hermione drew in a shaky breath and turned her face into Ron's shoulder. Harry didn't make any sound at all. He walked, very calmly, up to his dormitory, and shut his door. Two seconds later, the door was in splinters on the floor.

~**~

(A/N: Okay everybody, go ahead and say it. I am a balmy sadistic twat who didn't get enough love as a child. But I had to get rid of her _some_ way. She was extremely irritating.)

            Hermione had expected to find Harry grief stricken. Shaking with sobs, maybe. But she forgot that she had never seen Harry cry, and she found that she was not likely to ever see it. After eleven terrible years with Dudley, the boy who lived didn't cry. Even when he should have.

            Harry was lying on his bed, face down. "Don't you ever knock?" he asked, his voice muffled into the pillow.

            "I couldn't find the door."

            "It's around; on the floor somewhere." 

            Hermione looked about the room. Pieces of the door were certainly around the room. As well as pieces of everything else. One of the windows was broken. It looked like an elephant had stopped by for tea.

            "Do you want to talk, Harry," asked Hermione tentatively.

            "No. Go back and let Ron comfort you. I'm fine."  The last window shattered, spraying the floor with glass.

            "That's what happens when you try to conceal your emotions," said Hermione quietly. "You're thinking about what that demon said, aren't you? Well you couldn't have saved Cho, Harry; you just couldn't have. It's not your fault."

            "It bloody well is!" Harry sat up. There were no tears in his eyes, no sobs that he was trying to conceal. His eyes were as hard as cut emeralds. He took a breath and controlled himself. "You may want to leave Hermione, because what I told Ron is true. People tend to die when they are around me for too long."

            "No, they don't Harry," said Hermione softly.

            "They do! And every single one of them is my fault! Cho, Cedric, my parents…"

            "You couldn't have prevented any of that."

            "I could have. And that's what Voldemort is trying to tell me. Here's another person dead, and it's all you're fault. Did you hear what Ron said, Hermione? She had a lighting bolt carved into her forehead. You couldn't get any plainer if you wrote 'Guilt-o-gram for Harry Potter: This is your fault.' On her jumper and had Hedwig bring her to me at breakfast."

            "You don't know that."

            "Yes I do. Why? Because that's what you do to your enemy. Break him down, make him go mad. Slowly kill the people that he's close to, the girl he fancied…" his voice broke.

            "That is Voldemort's problem, not yours, Harry," said Hermione. "You can't do anything about it."

            "You know what the worst bit is, Hermione," said Harry. "It's working. I am going mad." He gave a harsh laugh that echoed strangely in Hermione's ears. "It'll be you next, or Ron, or Sirius, or Professor Lupin…one by one he will kill them all off until it's only me. And then I won't have the will to live anymore. Maybe I'll just help him out. Just hang myself by my bedclothes and save all of you." He laughed again. 

            "No," said Hermione. "I won't let you die. None of us will. Whether it is Voldemort or yourself, I won't let you die. When you do, it will be over my dead body."

            "That's just it, Hermione," said Harry. "You won't be able to do anything about it. Do you know what Voldemort said right before he killed Cedric? Do you know what the last words Cedric heard were?"

            Hermione didn't know what to say. Harry had never told her what had happened the night of the third task.

            "He said, 'kill the spare.' The spare. People aren't people to him. Just something unwanted that always comes back. Like weeds. Just weeds that get in the way. And when something gets in your way, you kill it. Getting me over your dead body is precisely what he has in mind." 

            Hermione grabbed Harry's hands, and pulled him up off the bed. 

            "Listen to me," she said firmly, looking straight into his eyes. "You can't go mad, Harry. Even if I die, you can't. Because it isn't your fault. It's Voldemort's fault. He's the one who killed all those people. Not. You."

            "I as good as killed them," said Harry, looking away. "It's like saying that it isn't Wormtail's fault because he didn't actually kill my parents." 

            Hermione hugged him, not knowing what else to say.  He stiffened, and then relaxed, putting his head on her shoulder.  She stroked his hair. "It wasn't your fault, Harry. It wasn't." He stood there for a second longer, and then pulled away. 

            "Thank you," he said formally. His face was a mask now, it showed no emotion at all.

            "There are times when I could cheerfully kill you, Harry James Potter," said Hermione in a strangled voice.

            "Go ahead," he said softly, a wry, twisted smile on his face. "You'd be doing all of us a favour."

            ~**~

A/N: Ok, depressing. Sorry about that, it had to be done. 

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. A line or two is from "Seeing a Large Cat," by Elizabeth Peters.


	26. Of Toilets

A/N: I'm sorry that some of you feel that I am being to slow in putting out chapters. I am trying as hard as I can, but I do have to do other things you know…like eating and sleeping…:) Anyway, thanks very much to ShUz, who gave me the lyrics for this chapter. I previously had a mental block. Also thank you to Pixie for the wonderful review, (that made my day!) and also, the answer to your question: As long as Hermione didn't give anything away that might change the past about Harry's life, it was ok. Do you think that Lily and James would not be curious about their son's life? They had to know something. :) Also, thanks to WeasleyTwinsLover1112, and Smile7499 for just sticking with me through every chapter. (And Smile7499: Hehe, I thought you would like the last chapter. Some people thought the last chapter name was slightly morbid. I thought it was funny. **shrug** Hehe.)

Dedicated To: Padfoot. Because she understands when I'm acting drunk, even though I've had no alcoholic beverages.

**_The Boy who never cried_**

**_(Steve Earle)_**__

_Long ago and far away   
In a land no map can find   
There lived in long forgotten days   
A boy who never cried   
He was his mother's only child   
So she never wondered why   
Until the news spread far and wide   
Of a boy who never cried _

_From fabled lands the pilgrims came   
To behold the silent child   
In ancient tones they sang his name   
Over every lonely mile   
There were those who came in reverence   
There were those who stood outside   
And whispered low in quatrains dim   
Of a boy who never cried _

_Days grew long and short until   
The seasons turned to years   
The child grew strong and fairer still   
With a face unstained by tears   
And every maid and lady fair   
Held her breath when he passed by   
For their mothers bid them all beware   
Of a man who never cries _

_He lived alone for all his years   
and then on the day he died   
He shed a single precious tear for a boy who never cried _

~**~

            _He could see it again, the sudden pull at his navel, the shock at seeing a darkened graveyard ahead of him, watching Cedric's face looking determined to win the unexpected final task. Then suddenly, the high, cold, voice cutting through the darkness. _

_            "Kill the spare."_

_            He saw the sudden, blank look in Cedric's eyes as he suddenly keeled over. Cedric would never win that final task. Never. And they let Cedric lie, limply on the ground, as they tied him up, took bones and blood and flesh; which made the Dark Lord rise again. His very own blood now ran through the Dark Lord's veins. _

_            They untied him now, and gave him back his wand. He dodged, running, knowing that he could never escape, in desperation using a final spell:_

_            "Expellarmus."_

_            Then there was the phoenix song, and all the murders that Lord Voldemort committed had come pouring out of his wand. Seeing his parents, and Cedric again…_

            Finally, Cedric's plea, to bring his body back to his parents. It was the least he could do, he helped in Cedric's murder, after all. So he broke the connection and ran, knowing that it was hopeless, knowing that he deserved to die after what he pulled Cedric into, knowing that every second would be his last…

            "Harry? Harry! Are you alright?" Ron bent over Harry, looking concerned. Harry sat up with a start. He was in front of the common room fire; having abandoned his bed after in had split in two under him. He knew he needed to learn to control himself better, just like Hermione had said. And now Ron was here, at three o'clock in the morning. The last person Harry wanted to see when he was sweating and shaking.

            "I'm fine," he said, attempting to look as though nothing was wrong. A glass on the table shattered. Harry tried to control himself.

            "No, you're not, Harry," said Ron. Now that he got a good look at Ron, Harry realised that he was as pale as Harry felt. 

            "What do you know?" asked Harry, still trying to continue his masquerade.

            "Because, it was that dream that you were having," said Ron. He took a shaky breath. "One about you-know-who, it was what happened last year. It was what you never told us about. What happened at the third task."

            Harry stared.

            "How d'you know that?"

            "Because," said Ron, grasping the arm of the chair and looking very hard at Harry. "Because. _I_ _had the same one._"

~**~

            "So tell me again, what did you see?" 

            "I told you, Harry, I told you." Ron sighed. "It was you and you-know-who. I watched Cedric die, and I watched you fight you-know-who, and all those people come out of his wand. Now, can I get breakfast?"

            "Fine," Harry said. "Go ahead. I'm sorry, it's just so…odd."

            "You're telling me," said Ron, nodding fervently. "But right now, I'm quite hungry, so I will see you later."

            "I'll catch you up," said Harry.

            Ron had no sooner turned around the corner than Draco Malfoy suddenly came into view. Crabbe and Goyle were conspicuously missing. Bugger, Harry thought. It is really not my week.

            "Hello, Potter," he drawled. By Malfoy standards, he was looking positively jovial. Harry backed slightly away. Draco smirked.

            "I must say," he said, looking Harry up and down, "you are breaking your own records in appearance. What did you do, lose a fight with your comb? Oh wait, I forgot, you don't own one."

            "At least I don't spend half the day in front of the mirror, Malfoy," Harry spat. "That comes off as suspiciously _girly_, don't you think?"

            "No one asked you, Potter," said Malfoy, looking decidedly sulky. 

            "My, my, aren't we in a bad temper today," said Harry coolly. "What did you do, break a nail?"

            "Well, at least I didn't kill off a mudblood," said Draco viperously. "Didn't you hear, Potter? That little Ravenclaw seeker is dead. She had a lighting bolt carved into her forehead. It must be a trend; you pop your clogs and get a Potter scar on your head. To bad you didn't kick first, Potter."

            "Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry through clenched teeth.

            "Filthy little mudblood," said Draco reflectively. "I suppose she really brought it upon herself. If she hadn't come here and poisoned the school…" 

            Harry punched him. Hard. Draco retreated a few steps, but recovered and swung in the general direction of Harry's face.  Harry reeled back, gave Draco a hard kick in the shins, and a sharp cuff across his head.

            "Harry? What are you doing?"

            Bugger, thought Harry. This _really_ is not my week.

            It was his mother.

            "You have classes, you know," said Lily indignantly, "and you're bleeding."

            "I don't have much time to talk at the moment, Mum," said Harry, ducking a blow from Draco. He swung again.

            "Honestly. Stop that right now." Lily was looking decidedly angry.

            Harry grunted in reply, having just got hit in the stomach.

            "Alright, that's it. Break it up," said Lily. Harry swung at Draco's head.

            "_HARRY JAMES POTTER_!" looking like a large version of a leprechaun in a temper, Lily sprang in between the two boys, separated them, and twisted their arms painfully behind their backs. 

            "How _dare_ you?" she growled at Harry. "You are just like you're father, that way, never listening to me…well, listen up, you. I take it you don't like him?" She gestured with her head in Draco's direction. Draco, who was having the circulation being cut off from his left arm, winced.

            "No," said Harry sulkily.

            "Good," said Lily. She marched them over to the toilet across the hall, radiating anger. The door of the toilet blasted open without anybody touching it. Lily threw them both in, sending them sprawling. She slammed the door shut, and there was a blast of light around the edges. They could hear her angry footsteps as she walked away. Harry stared at the door, his fight with Draco temporarily forgotten. He pointed at the door.

            "Open," he said. He got nothing except a short stab of pain in his forehead. "Open," he said again.

            "Oh right Potter," said Malfoy, "pointing at a door and ordering to open really works. Why don't you try asking it nicely?"

            Harry ignored him He pulled out his wand.

            "_Alohomora_." Nothing. The door stayed firmly shut. This was _really really_ not his week.

            "Are you so incompetent that you can't open a bloody door?" Draco smirked. He pulled out his wand, and pointed it at the door. "_Alohomora._" The door remained shut. "_Alohomora,_" Draco said again. Nothing. "_Alohomora!" _

            "Oh right Malfoy," said Harry acidly, imitating Draco's drawl. "Say it three times and _that'll_ make it come true."

~**~

            "Potter!" Lily stormed into the transfiguration classroom. Both James and Hermione looked up in surprise. 

            "Potter, you had just better go talk to _your_ son. He's being…ugh…he's being like _you._"

            "Ah," said James in an undertone to Hermione. "I thought that might be the problem." He winked and straightened. "Yes Lily darling. Where is our wonderful child?"

            "_Your_ increasingly annoying child is in a toilet. In the charms corridor. With someone else. They were fighting. So I shut them in there until you can deal with them."

            Hermione went very pale. "Whom did you shut him in with?"

            "Some blonde boy. He had a sneer on his face, and I can't blame Harry for hitting him, but he should have stopped when I told him to."

            Hermione began to make strange wheezing sounds.

            "Are you alright?" Lily stopped mid-rampage, concerned.

            "I'm…it's just…" she gasped. "Oh bloody…Lily, you locked Harry in with _Draco Malfoy_…" She put her head on her desk and laughed helplessly. 

            "Draco Malfoy?" James looked at her as well. "I knew a Lucius Malfoy. He was in seventh year when we were in first, but I didn't know him that well. Not the friendliest chap in the history of the world."

            "This is his son," said Hermione, calming down. "Picture Snape with blonde hair, and vain enough to take care of himself and wash his hair and everything."

            Now it was James' turn to pale.

            "Lily, you locked Harry in with a _Slytherin_?"

            "Well, I didn't know," said Lily petulantly.

            "You better go, James," said Hermione. "Because one of them won't be alive for much longer."

~**~

A sudden pounding came from the door. It momentarily distracted Harry and Draco, who were, as predicted, about to kill each other. 

            "Harry! Are you in there?" James' voice sounded muffled through the shut door.

            "Yes!" said Harry desperately. "Dad! Get me out of here! Quick!"

            "Why can't you get out yourself?" Hermione's voice came from the other side of the door as well.

            "We both tried," said Harry exasperatedly. "I tried wandless and with my wand. Neither worked. Malfoy tried too."

            "Hmmm…" said James. "But you're more powerful than your mother is. You should have been able to open this door without your wand."

            "No one is more powerful than Mum when she's in a temper," said Harry.

            "You got that right," muttered Draco, gazing at the marks on his left arm that Lily had inflicted.

            "Stand back," said James. "OPEN!" He yelled. There was a sudden flash of light. Harry reached for the doorknob. 

It stayed firmly locked.

"Well that didn't work," Harry snapped.

"I tried," said James. "Well, Harry, you'll just have to stay in here."

_"WHAT?!_" Draco and Harry yelled simultaneously.

"I can't stay in here," Draco said. 

"You're going to have to," said James. "Until the spell wears off. It will in a few days. Lily said around two or three."

"Two or three days with Malfoy?" asked Harry. "Are you purposely _trying_ to make me go mad?"

"No," said Sirius, who had, apparently, joined them. "That's just an added bonus."

            "Shut up," said Harry. "How will we eat and everything?"

            "Well," said James, "We can get stuff in, if we levitate it and put a pushing spell on it, we just can't take it out."

            "Honestly," said Draco, "Can't you just knock down the door."

            There was a pause.

            "Been there, tried that," said Sirius finally. "But all the doors have all sorts of charms on them that make people unable to remove or break them."

            "Which is why Harry didn't blow the door to bits when he tried," said James.

            "You see," said Sirius, "We once stole all the doors in Hogwarts…"

            "It was an accident, really," said James

            "We just happened by the library and found this book…" said Sirius.

            "Is this going to be a long little story?" asked Draco acidly.

            "Yes, but it's full of wise and worldly wisdom, so shut up," said James. "Anyway this book happened to have a spell in it that made it possible to remove all the doors in one place and put them somewhere…say…I don't know…Moscow for instance."

            "And that's precisely what we did," said Sirius. "We didn't mean to, of course, it was an accident."

            "So Professor Dumbledore put all these charms on all the doors so we couldn't do that again." James finished.

            "What was the point of that?" asked Draco.

            "Actually, the moral of the story is, you shouldn't kill anybody who is related to you because it is their fault that you are locked in the loo, and you can't get the door off." Said James.

            "I don't like that story, Dad," said Harry.

            "I think we're actually agreed on this one, Potter," said Malfoy.

              
            "Well, we're going to breakfast," said James cheerfully.

            "No, wait!" said Harry. Bugger, he thought.

            This is _really really really_ not my week.

~**~

A/N: Je Finis. Bon Soir.

            __


	27. of MORE toilets

A/N: I know all of you are now questioning my sanity. Why would Harry let out a secret that Dumbledore made _Ron _(of all people,) forget? Why isn't Draco freaking out yet because these dead people are throwing him in toilets? Well my friends, our favourite Slytherin is going to have his little drama quite soon. However, imagine the shock value of having something that looks like a large leprechaun in a temper, throw you into a toilet and lock you in. Especially when you are the heir of Malfoy house and nothing bad ever happens to you. I assure you, even though my sanity is completely gone, there is a purpose to most of the things I do. He will get over the shell shock quickly. Very quickly.  

~**~

            "I cannot believe this," said Harry, his head against the door. "I cannot believe this."

            "You said that already," said Draco. "Alright Potter, out with it. How much did you bribe Weasley's sister to throw me into the loo?"

            Harry stared at him

            "It's a typical Gryffindor plan," Draco sneered, "Bribe someone to lock a Slytherin in a loo, and end up getting locked in yourself."

            Harry smiled slightly. "I didn't bribe anyone," he said.

            "Oh, alright," Draco sneered all the more. "And you expect me to believe that your mother and father are around? I heard that conversation." He put on a high falsetto. "Dad! Help me! Mum locked us in!" he looked at Harry. "Who did you get to do that? Another one of the Weasley's? Did you expect me to believe that?"

            "You believe what you want to believe, Malfoy," said Harry. 

            "Ah," said Malfoy, "So you _have_ gone mad. Skeeter was right."

            "You believe what you want to believe, Malfoy," said Harry

            "You said that already," Draco pointed out.

            "So did you," said Harry.

~**~

            Ron burst into the common room. "Where's Harry?" He asked.

            "In the loo," Hermione looked up from her book.

            "Oh, alright," Ron sat down in a chair. "I'll wait for him, then."

            "I wouldn't do that if I were you…" Hermione stifled a giggle.

            "Why?" asked Ron.

            "He'll be in there for quite a while," said Hermione, going back to her book.

            "Now Hermione, that's just disgusting," said Ron.

            "Well, it's true," said Hermione. "He couldn't help it that he got locked in."

            "He _what_?" asked Ron. "Ugh, I knew it. He always does the stupidest things when I'm not there to stop him."

            "Or the other way around," said Hermione.

            "Hey!" said Ron. "How'd he get locked in the loo?"

            "Malfoy," said Hermione, thinking fast. "Apparently, Malfoy tried to lock him in, but ended up locking them both in…and now no one can open the door until the spell wears off."

            "Poor Harry," said Ron, shaking his head, "He can be incredibly dense sometimes."

            He's not the only one, Hermione thought.

~**~

            "Father will never believe this," said Draco. "I'm stuck in a loo for three days with _Potter_, of all people."  
  


            "Well, it's no picnic for me, either, Malfoy," said Harry, glaring.

            "Malfoy's don't go on picnics," said Draco stuffily. 

            "Yeah, I'm sure it's in the 'Malfoy Code Of Conduct,' right in between, 'thou shall ever be full of angst,' and 'thou shall go on muggle killing sprees whenever you find the time,'" said Harry. 

            "Actually, it's called the Malfoy Rules Of Conduct," Draco drawled. "And it's 'thou shall not have any strenuous physical exercise besides Quiddtich and…"

            "Croquet?" Harry suggested. "Cricket?"

            "Water Polo," Draco finished.

~**~

            "Hermione, what are you reading?"

            Hermione looked up again. "Romeo and Juliet."

            "Why?"

            "Because I like to improve my mind," she snapped. "Ron, if you continue to be annoying I will lock _you_ in a loo with Crabbe and Goyle."

            "Oh. Ok," said Ron.

            There was a silence. Hermione started to read again. 

            "Why Crabbe and Goyle?"

            Hermione pitched the book at his head. 

~**~

            "Even if I _were_ allowed to go on picnics," said Draco lazily. "You didn't bring any food."

            "What am I, your house elf?" Harry asked crossly.

            "No, but you should be," said Draco, "you're the reason why we don't have one."

            "Oh poor wittle Malfoykins," said Harry in sarcastic sympathy. "Now he'll have to clean his room all by _himself."_

            "No," said Malfoy, his eyes widening slightly at the unheard of idea. "We have servants. Good gad, don't _joke _about things like that!"

~**~

            "So let me get this straight," said Remus, pacing up and down the floor of James' bedroom. "Lily locked Harry and Draco into a toilet, and no one can get the spell off."

            "Yes," said James nodding.

            "And they can't break down the door all because of you," said Remus.

            "Correct again," said Sirius.

            "So now Harry and Draco are locked in a toilet together for three days," said Remus.

            "Right," said Lily.

            "Did you take their wands?" asked Remus.

            "Uh…" said James.

            "Well actually…" started Sirius.

            "Didn't occur to us…" said Lily.

            "To busy laughing…" mumbled James.

            "You idiots," said Remus, shaking his head, "You're going to do Voldemort's job for him!"

            The consensus was "oh bugger," as everyone made a mad rush to the door.

~**~

            "Listen up Malfoy, if we're going to be stuck in here together, don't say _one more thing_ about Cho, or I'll curse you until it is raining little bits of Malfoy all over."

            "Ohhh…" said Draco, his eyes gleaming. "Did wittle Potty have a crushy on the seeker?"

            "Shut up, Malfoy."__

            "It's an odd way to show your affection, Potter," said Malfoy, "By _killing somebody off who you fancy._"

            "One more word, Malfoy, just one…" Harry growled.

            "Well it is _all your f_…"

            There was a banging on the door.

~**~

            "Harry, I want you and Draco to give your wands to me. Right now." James called through the door. There was a small silence before there was an answer.

            "No," Harry said.

            "Why not?" Sirius demanded. "It's for your sake as much as his."

            "You don't think I can defend myself?" Harry asked.

            "He probably knows ten times the amount of hexes that you do," said James.

            "Heh," said Draco. You could hear his smirk through the door. "You got that part right."

            "He was insulting Cho," Harry said stiffly. 

            "Oh, stop playing the gentleman," said Lily. "She's dead, you're alive, and we would like to keep you that way."

            There was a glowering silence from the other side of the door.

            "For the record, I'm not handing mine in either, just because," said Malfoy.

            "If you don't," said Lily, who was beginning to lose her temper. "I will keep you in there for three weeks, not three days."

            Two wands were hastily shoved under the door.

~**~  
  


            "Wonderful," said Harry. "I'm locked in here for three days with Malfoy, wandless."

            "Well, it's no picnic for me, either, Potter," said Malfoy.

            "I thought that Malfoy's don't go on picnics," said Harry.

            "Well, well," said Malfoy, "it appears you have brought the food, Potter."

            "What are you talking about?" demanded Harry.

            "Chicken legs," said Draco, staring pointedly at Harry's legs. "I have a fondness for chicken. Especially chicken legs." He continued to stare pointedly at Harry's legs, and delicately licked his lips.

            Harry yelped, and ran into a stall, locking the door. His voice could be heard coming through the door.

            "Wonderful," it said, "I'm locked in with the Malfoy version of Hannibal Lector."

~**~

            Remus was pacing the floor of James' room again.

            "So they're locked in for three days," he said.

            "I believe we've covered this already, Moony," said James.

            "And there's no possible way out," said Remus.

            "Yes, yes," said Sirius. "The whole door thing, no windows."

            "And you've got their wands," he said.

            "Thanks to me," said Lily.

            "Can't Harry do wandless magic?" asked Remus.

            The consensus was 'bloody beast and a half,' as they made yet another mad rush for the door.

~**~

   
            "Listen here, Malfoy," said Harry, who was still locked in the stall. "If you try to eat me, I will have to tie you up."

            "Like _that'll_ ever happen," said Draco. "I'd like to see you try."

            "I can do wandless magic you know," said Harry.

            "Oh my giddy aunt," said Draco. "And I invented a self spelling wand."

            The door of the stall burst into splinters, and Harry stepped out. He pointed at the door and it instantly repaired it's self, and went neatly back to it's place.

            "Hmmm," said Malfoy. "So you can."

            "Could I see your self spelling wand, then?" Asked Harry.

~**~

            "Harry," James yelled through the door. "You are, under no circumstances, to use wandless magic."

            "What?!" came the incredulous reply. 

            "Or I will keep you in there," said Lily. "If I find out that you've done anything."

            "I lived in a closet for eleven years," was Harry's muttered reply.  "Now I've moved up to my very own personal toilet."

            "You call this moving up?" asked Malfoy incredulously. 

            "No wandless magic whatsoever," James repeated.

             "Even if he tries to eat me?" Harry asked.

            "Even then," said Lily firmly

            There was a muttered explicative, and then the ring of something that rather sounded like a sink shattering.  
            

            "Ohhh…" said Malfoy. "Naughty Potter. Bad form, bad form."

~**~    

A/N: I know that I promised that there would be no nothing chapters. But I couldn't help myself! This one was so much fun to write…Anyway, to answer the quick question from wini: James and Lily can leave baby Harry behind because they will come back the second that they left. I realise that this chapter didn't turn out quite as I expected. I was going to have Malfoy go mad, but then the story ran away with me. Don't ask, I only live here. 


	28. Hallelujia

JPalmgren 

This is possibly the dorkiest plan I've ever heard of. It is so bad in fact has ceased to be fun and become just plain stupid and embarrasing.  
  
1. You do not lock people up in bathrooms for three days to force them together.  
  
2. Harry OR Malfoy could have opened any wall, the floor or the ceiling with their wands.  
  
3. Harry can still open any wall, the floor or the ceiling with wandless magic.  
  
4. Is there supposed to be any school activity or supervising going on at all? "Sure we can lock Harry into a bathroom for three days with his former worst enemy and hope they get it on! He has nothing better to do whatsoever!"  
  
5. You do not lock a kid who has spent part of his upbringing locked in closets anywhere if you can help it if you want to remain on even slightly friendly foot or you are one extremely stupid and insensitive bastard.  
  
5. This is the last straw on this fic. I will avoid this crap in the future. I hope you get over your hopefully temporary insanity soon...  
  
Until then, Sod off!

A/N: Well, that's how my day started. Yes, a lovely flame. My first one, in fact. Does anybody else agree with what this person said? Because if they do, tell me right away so I can kill this fic and put everybody out of their misery. But before they do, I would like to answer a few questions that this person (is it a person? Or maybe a demon or something…) had. 

I, apparently, do lock people in a bathroom for three days and force them together. My dear JPalmgren, have you ever lost your temper, and done something that you have regretted? Yes, even though she is a fictional character, Lily is human, and she lost her temper. You _can't_ open walls or ceilings without the rest of the wall/ceiling coming down on your head. Hogwarts is made of very heavy stones. Plus, don't you think Dumbledore would have put up charms to keep people from making large holes in walls? It's one of the easiest attack plans ever if he forgot about that. The characters are not as dense as you are. See number 2. Umm…Lily/James/Sirius/Remus ARE the supervisors of Harry. As to our favourite Slytherin, I was planning on putting that in this chapter. See number one. (You apparently have two fives. This should be number six) If it is so bad, why haven't you stopped reading it yet? Does anybody else find it slightly ironic that they told me to sod off? I didn't ask you to read this. Unless you are an American who is pretending to be English and don't know the meaning of the words "sod off." If you didn't, it's about the same as a very nasty "go away." 

Smile7499: Your name is quite accurate. You made me feel much better. Thanks!

Aside:  I have taken the liberty of getting rid of that particular review. You won't find it in the review sections anymore.

Thought of the day: If you flame people, does that make you a flamer?

~**~

_Maybe I've been here before_**_  
_**_I know this room_**_  
_**_I've walked this floor_**_  
_**_I used to live alone_**_  
_**_Before I knew you_**_  
_**_I've seen your flag_**_  
_**_On the marble arch_**_  
_**_Love is not a victory march_**_  
_**_It's a cold and_**_  
_**_It's a broken Hallelujah _**_  
  
_**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_**_  
_**_Hallelujah, Hallelujah _

_~"Hallelujah" From Shrek, By Rufus Wainwright_

_~**~_

            Dumbledore thought he had never seen such an odd combination of people in his life. He _looked _like Harry Potter. But the _mannerisms_ were of James Potter. Harry, (or possibly James?) sat on the chair, fidgeting with the upholstery and crossing and uncrossing his legs. The person sitting next to him _looked_ like Hermione Granger. But the _mannerisms_ were of Lily Evans. She sat, on the chair next to James, (he was quite sure that it must be James) with her hands hooked under the seat of her chair, looking very much like something was going to pick the chair up and make her fall off. Which is exactly what Lily and James had looked like when they had gotten called in for not getting into their common room on time in their 5th year.

            It was a very confusing scene.

            "Listen Professor," said the person who looked like Harry, but now sounded like James. "We had a slight mishap…"

            "This was my fault James," said the person who looked like Hermione but now sounded like Lily. "I was the one who did it. Let me explain."

            "You're no good at stretching the truth and you know it," he retorted. Dumbledore cleared his throat.  

            "It would be," he said, "Much less confusing if you resumed your normal forms." Both James and Lily looked at each other. 

            "Oh," said James. He closed his eyes for a brief second, and when he opened them again, they were brown. The scar was gone as well.

            "Show off," Lily muttered, pulling out her wand. She too, resumed her regular form. 

            "Much better," said Dumbledore, "Now, if you don't mind, I do prefer truth rather than lies."

            Lily stuck her tongue out at James in a particularly mature way.

            "I told you," she said. "You see, what happened was…well sir…" she stopped. "Harry and Draco Malfoy were fighting in the hallway," she said. "And they wouldn't stop, even when I told them to, so I got slightly annoyed."

            Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.

            "Quite understandable. What did you do?" he asked.

            "Well, I locked them in the loo…." Her voice was reduced to a mumble. 

            "I'm sorry, I did not quite catch all of that," said Dumbledore, beginning to smile.

            "I locked them in the loo," said Lily. "And now we can't get it open, there are no windows, and we can't break down the door."

            "You didn't use your wand, I presume?" Dumbledore asked.

            "No," said Lily in a small voice. 

            "Oh dear," Dumbledore's voice was muffled from laughter. "How long do you think they will be in there?"

            "Three days," said Lily in an even smaller voice.

            "I will inform Mr. Malfoy's teachers," said Dumbledore. "You may go now."

            They could hear his laughter after they shut the door.

~**~

            "We're sending in blankets, Harry," said James' voice through the door. "And we talked to Dumbledore. Goodnight."

            Malfoy looked at the blankets in disgust. 

            "_Cotton?_" he asked, indignation thick in his voice. "They gave us _cotton_ blankets?"

            Harry sputtered. 

            "What are you used to sleeping on?" he asked. "Velvet?"

            "Silk," said Malfoy in a dignified manner. 

            "Oh good…" Harry hid his face in his hands. His shoulders began to shake.  For a moment, Malfoy couldn't tell whether he was laughing or crying. That was until he fell off the sink, which he had been perched.

            "Oh sod off, Potter," said Malfoy, and elegantly stalked away. "I get to sleep in the bath."

            "Have a good night," said Harry, grinning as he spread out his blankets on the floor.

            "Shut up."         

~**~

            _It was a different dream now, a different time. Whether it was before or after the other dreams, Ron didn't know. But in this one, he could see faces clearly, as if he was right up close to the people in the dream. The only problem was, he couldn't hear. People mouthed wordlessly at him, but Ron could tell the emotions by looking at their faces. It was as clear as if they had been talking._

_            Something bad had happened._

_            And Ron wasn't supposed to be there. He felt like he was intruding, but how could he intrude with his two best friends?_

_            Hermione was crying. It was snowing, Ron could almost feel the cold, but she didn't have a cloak on. She skidded to a stop, a curled in a ball, rocking back and forth. Harry arrived a second later. He wasn't wearing a cloak either._

_            He said something to her, and she snapped back at him, and turned away. He put his head in his hands, and said something else. Then she turned back. She was still crying, and very angry. The anger wasn't directed at Harry, it was directed at something else._

_ He saw Harry reach out as if to touch her, and then pull away. Hermione said something else, and Harry wrapped his arms around her, and then pulled back again. That was when Malfoy joined them. He said something with a sneer on his face, and then left. _

_            Harry looked at Hermione, and said something else. Hermione turned to him, and actually said something that Ron could understand._

_            "Yes, Harry," she said. "But they came back."_

_            And she followed Malfoy back up to the castle, leaving Harry looking shocked and forlorn in the snow._

~**~

            "You know, Malfoy," said Harry. "This isn't as bad as I thought it would be."

            "Bugger off, Potter," said Draco. "It's only because I can't kill you, you can't kill me, and we don't have anyone to fix us if we try to bash each other's heads in manually."

            "Not really," said Harry. "After a day, a person can get used to you, Malfoy."

            "I know what you're thinking Potter," said Draco. "You're thinking, 'Poor Malfoy, he's so sad and all alone and he has a father that hates him and a mother that won't do anything and no friends at all and maybe if I talk to him I can fix it somehow.' Well, I don't need to be fixed Potter, I'm just fine the way I am."

            "I beg to differ," said Harry caustically. "You do need to be fixed somehow. Because otherwise, you shouldn't be the way you are. Why do you hate the world so much, Malfoy?"

            "Why do you suppose I do?" asked Draco. 

            "Because you had the best of everything. I grew up in a closet, and I'm not as screwed up as you are."

            "Oh, are we comparing soap operas now, Potter? What happened to the phrase 'money can't buy everything'?"

            "So you're now complaining of lack of love," said Harry. "I didn't have that either. My uncle, aunt, and cousin all hate me."

            "Oh, poor little pottie, nobody treats him right," said Malfoy. "My parents hated me too."

            "At least you had parents!"

            "Oh you poor little orphan boy," said Malfoy sarcastically. "My heart weeps for you."

            "Oh you poor little rich boy," said Harry, just as sarcastically, "Go find a shrink."

            "Malfoy's don't go to shrinks."

            "What, is that in the Malfoy Rules of Conduct too?" Harry spat.

            Draco unexpectedly relaxed, the hands at his side slowly unclenched, and his mouth quirked up at the corners.

            "Yes, actually," he said. "It is."

            "What?" asked Harry in surprise.

            "Yeah," said Malfoy. "'Malfoy's are too manly to go to shrinks.' Rule Number 472."

            "Does that apply for the women too?" said Harry, looking thoughtful.

            "Bugger off, Potter," said Malfoy, grinning.

~**~

            "Hermione," said Ron. "Hermione, I need to talk to you." He had paced outside the portrait hole for a half an hour, trying to figure out what to say. He still had no idea.

            "What?" she asked, setting aside her book. "Ron, what's wrong?"

            Ron sighed inwardly. This wouldn't be easy. In fact, it would be quite hard. Very hard. 'This wouldn't be easy,' was one of the worst understatements in the history of the world, he thought savagely. 

            "I've..well…gah," he said.

            "Ron, are you alright?" she asked. "Because you look slightly green."

            He had to think of something plausible. He just had to. How could he explain what he was about to do by saying it was a feeling he got from a _dream_ of all things?

            "Listen Hermione," he said, finally. "I don't think we can go on this way." Wonderful, he thought to himself. Thank you Mr Cliché. He was starting to sound like his mum.

            "What way?" she asked, knowing what he was going to say, but not quite believing it.

            "You've been seeing Harry a lot lately," he said, striking inspiration. "I just…"

            "Oh Ron, you're not feeling neglected are you?" She asked, looking anxious. "I've been trying so hard for you not to be and…"

            "No, Hermione, just listen," he said, stopping her. "This isn't working. It just isn't. We just…don't work together right. We have too many arguments, too many spats, too many rows, call them what you will. I don't know. It just doesn't work. We need to start seeing other people." Ah, yet another wonderful cliché. God, Ron felt so awful he wanted to scream. Awful, not to mention stupid, dumb, a complete blockhead, a total wanger…. the list went on and on.

            "I cannot believe you, Ron Weasley," said Hermione, through thick, angry tears. "You think a stupid thing like arguments is what can ruin…"

            "I do not!" Ron shouted. "You've been hanging around bloody Harry all the time and…"

            "I can't help it!" Hermione shouted back. "It's not like it's _my _fault…"

            "Oh, so you say that you can't help it when you're with him twenty four hours a day…"

            "I can't! You know that I can't…"

            "Well _I_ can't even finish a sentence and…"

            "Well, with you cutting me off every two seconds…"

            "See!" Ron finally cried in exasperation. "We do stuff like this all the time! We must have the school record for most explosive relationship…"

            "If you'd just let me talk for a moment…"

            "No, Hermione," said Ron, shaking his head. "This won't work. No. See you later."  And he walked out of the portrait hole.

            If he had turned around, he would have seen Hermione standing there, shocked, with tears running down her face. If he had turned around, he might have turned back and apologise.

            He knew he couldn't turn around.

~**~

A/N: Oh dear. That wasn't supposed to happen there. It just…happened. Ah well. Smile4799: I'm sorry! I had to! I didn't mean to do it there! Don't worry, the "Ron bashing" will stop. He'll get lots of hugs in the next one. :)


	29. Of Diviners

A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews. I'm so sorry that this has taken so long to write, but I've been going through something really tough, and it's hard to write when you're worried about something else. So thanks for sticking with me, I'll try to get stuff out as fast as I can.

Disclaimer: All this belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling, whose 5th book is (finally) coming out!

Dedication: For Kylie

~**~

            _I don't expect my love affairs to last for long_

_            Never fool myself,_

_            That my dreams will come true._

_            Being used to trouble, _

_            I anticipate it,_

_            But all the same I hate it,_

_            Wouldn't you?_

_            So what happens now?_

_            (Another suitcase in another hall)_

_So what happens now?_

_            (Take your picture off another wall)_

_Where am I going to?_

_            (You'll get by, you always have before)_

_Where am I going to?_

_            ~"Another Suitcase in Another Hall." Evita _

~**~

            Lily was shocked to find Hermione in tears on the bed. Well, not shocked exactly. More like fearful that Voldemort had stricken again. That something else had happened. She rushed over.

            "What?" she asked urgently. "Who's dead? Did Voldemort…"

            Hermione sat up and gave her a watery grin. "Well after all that hype, what I'm crying about seems rather stupid, now."

            Lily breathed a sigh of relief. "He didn't kill anybody then, did he? Good. Now, what's wrong?"

            "This sounds so stupid," said Hermione apologetically. "After all, Voldemort's taking over the world and Harry's locked in a closet with Draco Malfoy and everybody's out to kill Harry and…"

            "Nothing is stupid if you are crying about it, lovey," said Lily gently. "Tell me what's wrong."

            "Ron just broke up with me for no reason," said Hermione. "I told you it was stupid," she said, misinterpreting the look on Lily's face.

            "No, it's not," said Lily, "I'm just shocked, is all. Why?"

            "I don't know, he just babbled on a bit about how we always argued and…well…that was it, really."

            "James and I always argue, and look at us," remarked Lily.

            "Yes, look at you," said Hermione with a small grin that bordered on cheeky. "But I couldn't exactly hold you up as an example, now could I?"

            "I suppose not," Lily sighed. "That poor boy."

            "Why is Ron a 'poor boy?'" asked Hermione indignantly. "He broke up with me."

            "Mumph," said Lily enigmatically. 

            "I do feel stupid," said Hermione. "It's just not a sensible thing to cry about. Not when Voldemort's taking over the world…"

            "You just need to think of it this way," said Lily. "Ron made you happy. There were happy times with him. But you can't marry everybody, Hermione. You just can't."

            "Yes," said Hermione. "I always thought I would find someone and he would sweep me off my feet. That I would know it was him right away. But I guess you can't find your soul mate when you're eleven years old."

            "You never know," said Lily. "Sometimes there's somebody right under your nose. Look at James and I. It might be the person you least expect."

~**~

            "Alright, Malfoy," said Harry. "Your move."

            "I'll move when I'm good and ready," said Malfoy in his most irritating manner. 

            "You're terrible at chess," said Harry. "I'm actually winning."

            "It would be much easier if they would actually listen to me," said Malfoy, listlessly prodding a bishop forward with his index finger.

            Harry rolled his eyes. 

            "It's _muggle_ chess, Malfoy," he said. "You have to move them by _yourself._"

            "Who would keep a set of muggle chess in the bath?" asked Malfoy. "Your move."

            "Someone in Hogwarts, apparently," said Harry, moving his queen diagonally and scooping up the bishop that Malfoy had just moved.

            "Well, I couldn't sleep at all last night." Said Malfoy sulkily, moving an errant knight out of the way of Harry's queen.

            "Between a (heaven forbid) _cotton_ blanket and a set of chessmen beneath you, I'm not surprised." Said Harry.  "Check."

            "Bugger," said Malfoy, completely deadpan. "You win."

            "I do not, you can still move your king."

            "Potter, I hate chess."

            "Well, so do I, but it's the only thing we have around here to do," said Harry.

            "We could sing all two hundred verses of 'Pass the Firewhiskey and Open the Loo,'" suggested Malfoy.

            "You have to be extremely drunk to pull that off," said Harry. "And I only know the first two verses."

            "So do I, come to think of it," said Malfoy. "I think you're supposed to make it up as you go."

            "Make it up?" said Harry incredulously. "But everything has to rhyme in it!"

            "It's not every day you meet such an astoundingly slow mind such as yours, Potter," said Draco, "This must be a very special occasion."

            "What?" asked Harry. "Sorry, I missed that. I didn't follow it at all."

~**~

            "Harry? Harry?" Hermione's voice came floating through the wall. "I've got lunch for you and Malfoy."

            "Good, I'm starved," said Malfoy, pushing the chessboard out of the way. "I was beginning to look to other alternatives if you didn't show up soon." He smirked in Harry's direction.

            "Who's the one that can do wandless magic?" Harry asked innocently. Malfoy stopped smirking. 

            "Well, I don't know about you, Potter, but I do want to get out of here at some point in time," said Malfoy. "So I wouldn't do wandless magic if I were you."

            "I wouldn't eat me if I were you," Harry shot back. "I would imagine Professor Dumbledore would be quite upset with you."

            "Ah yes, Dumbledore's golden boy," said Malfoy with a small sigh. "How could I have forgotten?"

            " Who has the astoundingly slow mind? I wouldn't go messing about with the most powerful wizard in the world," Harry smirked slightly. "You'd be a pile of rubble within two seconds."

            "A pile of rubble, eh?" said Malfoy, "highly doubtful."

            "Would you like me to prove it can be done?" asked Harry, cracking his knuckles. 

            "Bring it on, Potter," said Malfoy, rubbing his hands together in a particularly evil-looking fashion.

            "Oh stop it, both of you," said Hermione through the door.

            "Oh come on, Hermione, we were only messing about," said Harry. "We do want to get out of here eventually, you know."  
  


            "And anything is better than another game of chess," added Malfoy, "even if it is only verbally sparring with an incompetent such as Potter." 

            The tray was shoved through the door 

            "Well," said Hermione, "I've got something else for you to do." A slim volume was pushed under the door.

            "Read?" asked Malfoy, as if the very thought was insulting. "You want us to _read_?"

            "No, not read," said Hermione. "Act. Harry, they're only giving us a week to rehearse, but we're only doing one scene anyway. You have to know all your lines by the time you get out of the bathroom."

            Harry had hastily picked up the book. 

            "Which scene?" he asked.

            "The balcony one," said Hermione. 

            "Balcony what?" asked Draco.

            "Have a good lunch, Harry," said Hermione. They could hear her footsteps echoing as she walked away.

            "What's in your hand, Potter?" asked Malfoy.

            "A muggle studies project," said Harry. "Go eat lunch."

            "What project?" asked Malfoy.

            "None of your concern," said Harry. 

            "Well, you know I'm going to find out eventually, we have thirteen hours before we can get out of here."

            Draco reached over and snatched the volume out of Harry's hand. 

            "Romeo and Juliet?" he asked. "I've never heard of it."

            "It's a muggle play," said Harry irritably. He reached to grab the book back, but Draco held it out of his reach, perusing the cover.

            "Tights Potter?" he asked suddenly. "You have to wear tights?"

            "Let me see that," said Harry, finally gaining hold of the book. There was no doubt; the figure on the front cover was indeed wearing tights. "Oh bugger…"

            "You know," said Draco, grinning evilly, and leaning over to look at the book cover again. "This could be a lot more fun than I originally thought. We may not even have to play chess."

~**~ 

            "Ron?" Ginny looked around. "Ron, are you alright? Where are you?"

            Oh bugger. This was not his day. All he wanted was to be left alone. "Leave me alone, Ginny."

            "No." Ginny stubbornly set her chin and walked over to the chair Ron was sitting in. "You shouldn't be left alone. Not when you're going bonkers or mad or something."

            "I'm not mad." Why wouldn't she leave him alone?

            "Then why did you break up with Hermione for no reason? Ron listen…"

            "_Why don't you leave me alone?_" Ron stood up and stared down at her. "Listen Ginny I don't…" He trailed off. "You're not Ginny."

            "Yes I am Ron, what are you…"

            "No, you're not," he contradicted quietly. "You may be someone who looks like Ginny, but you're not."

            "Divining skills," she said. "Stupid of me, really, especially when that's what I came here to talk about. Bugger, I forgot."

            "What?" asked Ron incredulously. "What are you babbling about?"

            "Nothing," she said. Whoever she was. "Ron, will you listen to what I say, even though you don't know who I am?" 

            "Who _are_ you?" he asked.

            "I can't tell you," she said. "I honestly can't. If I did I'd be putting people in danger."

            "Harry," Ron said. "Yeah, I know. Don't tell me."

            "Will you listen, though? Will you take this as if it were Harry or Hermione talking?"

            "Why should I have any reason to trust you?" Ron looked at her, hard. "You came in here, impersonating my sister, and now you expect me to trust you. Why should I?"

            "Because I know that you didn't want to break up with Hermione. You wouldn't have in a million years unless something told you to."

            "No! It's because we argue…and…um…argue?" He suggested weakly. 

            "Stop fighting it, Ron," she said exasperatedly. "You know what you are. I know what you are. So stop get over the denial stage. I just need to know _why_ you did this. You saw something, and I need to know what it is."

            "I can't tell you," said Ron. "Because if I did, it wouldn't happen."

            "Give me the gist of it, then."

            "If I didn't break up with Hermione, Harry would die," said Ron simply. "That's all. I can't tell you why or how, but I _know_, alright?"

            "I believe you," she said. "And it's the scariest thing in the world to see, isn't it? Because now you know that every little thing that you do will have some sort of consequence with the fate of the world. It's not easy being the best friend of the person who the entire thing depends on, is it?"

            "No," said Ron.

            "Try being his mother," She said with a wry smile. "If she were alive, that is," she added hastily. Ron wasn't listening.

            "The fate of the world shouldn't be on anybody's shoulders," burst out Ron, suddenly. "Because it's going to…"

            "Don't tell me," she said. "I don't want to know. But Ron, if it makes any difference to you, anything at all, what you did was one of the hardest things anybody could do."

            "To love somebody enough to let them go?" He asked with a twisted smile. "What a touching cliché."

            "No," she said. "Not that. To love the human race enough to give up something you love to save it." She hugged him. "That's the very most that anyone can do."

            "Not always," said Ron. "Not with me, not with Harry, and not with Hermione. This is only the beginning."

~**~

A/N: Sorry for that very cheesy, very sappy, very annoying, very awkward, very badly written chapter. If I thought I could make it any better, I would delete the entire thing and rewrite. But I don't have time, and I'm quite bored with the whole process, and I don't want to because the fun chapter is coming up. So just suffer through this one, the other one will get better. I promise. Unless you are an H/R shipper. Then things go all downhill :)


	30. Of Romeo and Juliet

A/N: Another chapter! Hooray! I've been waiting to write this one for a very, very long time. In fact, I had most of it written several months ago, because I couldn't wait for it. I will say this, though. Even though I had so much fun writing it, I'm quite bad at love scenes. In my other fics there are barely any because I'm just…bad at them. This is the first real one that I've ever written. Every time I try to write one it turns out sappy and cheesy and ultimately gets deleted. Which is why Sirius happens to be in this one. Smile4799: There will be NO sex scenes in this fic. I'm planning on going to year seven, and quite frankly, I believe in marriage first. So. No need to worry about that. If any of you are looking for something like that, go find another fic, because there won't be any in here. They're only fifteen for crying out loud! Gah. Ah well. P.S. You will be converted. Don't worry. I actually was a H/R fan until I read this fic that had Harry and Hermione together, and I grew to like that pairing better. What can I say? If it happened to me, it could happen to you. :)

            Disclaimer: All belongs to the great J.K. 

            Dedication: For Moony aka Belinda aka Casey. 

~**~

_My gift is my song__  
And this one's for you  
And you can tell everybody  
That this is your song  
It maybe quite simple  
But now that it's done  
Hope you don't mind  
I hope you don't mind  
That I put down in words  
How wonderful life is now you're in the world  
  
Sat on the roof  
And I kicked off the moss  
Well some of the verses well  
They got me quite cross  
But the sun's been kind  
While I wrote this song  
It's for people like you that  
Keep it turned on  
  
So excuse me for forgetting  
But these things I do  
You see I've forgotten  
If they're green or they're blue  
Anyway the thing is what I really mean  
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen  
  
And you can tell everybody  
This is your song  
It may be quite simple  
But now that it's done  
I hope you don't mind  
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words  
  
How wonderful life is now you're in the world  
I hope you don't mind  
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words  
How wonderful life is now you're in the world_

_~ "Your Song," By Elton John. Sang By Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge._

~**~

            "I'm bored Potter." Malfoy looked over to the corner where Harry was quietly reading. "Potter, I said_ I'm Bored._" Harry didn't answer. "_Potter, I said…_"

            "Alive in triumph, and Mercutio slain? Away to heaven respective lenity, and fire-eyed fury be my conduct now! Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again that late thou gavest me, for Mercutio's soul is but a little way above our heads, and either thou, or I, or both must go with him!" said Harry without looking up. 

            "He's gone mad," said Malfoy. "Three days in a toilet makes him spout some old dead muggle guy language."

            "This shall determine that," said Harry.

            "It has already been determined," said Malfoy. "You're bonkers."

            "O, I am fortunes fool!" said Harry.

            "Right," said Malfoy. "Whatever you say, Potter."

            "Why can't we do this scene?" asked Harry rhetorically.

            "What's that?" said Malfoy, leaning over the book and scanning for that particular line. "What? Are you actually going to talk like a normal person now, Potter?"

            "Yes," said Harry. "Look at this scene. If we got to do this scene I would get to run somebody through with a sword. How come we have to do the bloody balcony scene?"

            "Balcony what?" said Malfoy. "Potter, I don't understand any of this."

            "You're not supposed to," said Harry. "If you did, I would never hear the end of it."

            "Good. So talk to me. Potter, _I'm Bored_…"__

            "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?" said Harry.

~**~

            "Costumes and sets?" said Hermione. "Without magic? We only have a week, we'll never get it done."

            "James, can't they use magic?" said Lily. "She is right, you know. They won't have time."

            "Especially with Harry locked in the loo," said Hermione.

            "Well, at least he's learning his lines," said Lily. "I heard him shout something about Mercutio at Malfoy. Malfoy was not to pleased."

            "That's the only reason why he's doing it," said Hermione with a grin. "Harry knows that if Malfoy doesn't know what he's talking about, it will drive him mad."

            "So," said James. "Do the sets and costumes with magic, then. But, it will only give you a day instead of a week. Hermione can build the sets and make the costumes easily within a few hours. Lily can help."

            "A day?" said Hermione, horrified. 

            "Not so hard," said Lily. "We'll see the final run through tomorrow, after Harry gets out of there."

            "So all Harry has to do is sit in the loo and learn his lines while we do all the work?" asked Hermione indignantly.

            "Yeah," said Lily. "Just think, he won't have any say in what he gets to wear."

            "Hmm," said Hermione. "Right."

~**~

            "Harry? We've got a change of plans," said Lily from outside the door. "We're going to do the costumes and everything else by magic. You just have to learn the blocking. Here." She shoved a piece of paper under the door. "If you just tap it, it will tell you where to go with what line. It's quite simple, really. You have until tomorrow, then we're going to run through it."

            "Tomorrow?" Harry yelped. "We have to do it tomorrow?"

            "Yes," said Lily.

            "What about the costumes?"

            "Oh, we're making them today."

            "What is mine going to look like?" Asked Harry suspiciously.

            "Oh, just like the one on the cover of your script," she said.

            "What?"

            Malfoy picked up the script. 

            "Tights, Potter?" he said, starting to laugh. "You have to wear tights…" He began positively howling.

            "Oh, shut up," said Harry crossly.

            "I cannot wait to see this," said Malfoy

            "You are not going to." Snapped Harry.

~**~

            "No," said Harry. "Not happening, no."

            "You don't have much of a choice, Harry," said James. "You've still got two hours in there."

            "I don't care. There is no way that I'm kissing Hermione. There just isn't."

            "I think your mum will have something to say about that. She did the blocking."

            "Oh not the mum thing again," said Draco. "Just tell Weasley to lay off, Potter, because it wasn't funny then, and it isn't funny now. The only thing funny about this entire situation is that you have to kiss Granger."

            "Sod off Malfoy," said James and Harry together. 

            "I'm sorry, Harry," said James. "You're just going to have to take it up with her, I don't have any say in this at all."

            "Fine," said Harry. "I will then."

~**~

            "No, absolutely not," said Lily. "That is one of the more classic parts of the play, there is no way that it will be deleted."

            "I thought that all the actors were men in Shakespeare's time," said Harry.

            "Fine, it's a classic part of the modern version," said Lily. "And that part is not going anywhere."

            "So you are going to sit and watch as I make a fool of myself?" asked Harry. "Thanks a lot."

            "No, we're not going to sit and watch you make a fool of yourself," said Lily. Harry brightened. 

            "You're not?"

            "Nope, we're going to sit and laugh as you make a fool of yourself." Said Lily with a grin.

~**~

            "Hey Malfoy, the door's open!" 

            "What?" Malfoy looked up from the chessboard, and gazed bemusedly at Harry. "The door…" He jumped up. "We can get out? We can actually…"

            He never got to finish his sentence. Harry was already down the hallway.

~**~

  
            "No. Absolutely not." Harry stared in horror at what his loving mother expected him to put on. "There is no way I am going to wear that. No chance at all. No no no."

            "Oh yes, Potter, say it three times. That will make it come true," said Malfoy

            "Malfoy, I don't need you spitting my own words back at me. Now leave. I've got to change."

            "Well hurry it up. I haven't gotten my quota of laughs for the day." 

            "Sod off Malfoy." Harry stared at the costume. It would have been quite pretty, if it had been on any other person, or any other person had to wear it. It was a classic Shakespearian outfit, a blue tunic, with a pair of parti-colour tights, one side grey, and one side blue.  Harry groaned. It wasn't just tights, they had to make them _coloured_ tights. He was never going to live through this. Never in a million years. Malfoy would never let him live it down, either. He could already see pictures of himself in this ridiculous costume plastered on every available wall. 

~**~

            "Alright Potter, work that runway!" Said Malfoy, clicking an imaginary camera. "Come on now Potter, move those hips just a bit more. Make Gucci proud!"

            Harry turned around and walked back into his room, locking the door behind him. 

~**~

            "Come on Harry, you've got to come out sometime," said Hermione. "You have to. You just spent three days locked in a toilet. You can't spend three more locked in your room."

            "I can and I will." Harry sounded as though he was talking through clenched teeth. Which, he probably was.

            "Oh of all the ridiculous…" said Hermione. She looked pointedly at the door, which obligingly opened for her. "Honestly, it can't be all that bad." Harry was on his bed, wrapped in several layers of blankets, glaring at her.

            "You weren't supposed to get that open," he said.

            "You didn't put a strong enough spell on it," said Hermione. "Honestly."

            "Go away. There is no way anybody, least of all Malfoy, is going to see me in this," said Harry.

            "Malfoy already did see you in it, apparently," Hermione noted. "By the way he was rolling around on the floor laughing. Now come on Harry, you are being ridiculous. Get out of bed and grow up."

            "I don't want to grow up," said Harry. "I always want to be a little boy and to have fun."

            "Stop quoting Peter Pan," said Hermione irritably. "And you never had fun when you were a little boy. You were either locked in a cupboard or saving the world from evil. Get up. _Now._" 

            Grumbling, Harry pulled off the bedclothes and got to his feet. He looked good. Hermione had to admit that. He looked like any other Shakespearian actor, in the exact type of clothing that they wore back then. Harry, apparently didn't seem to think so. 

            "Now are you happy?" he said. "I look like a fool."

            "You look like Romeo," said Hermione. "My costume is just as bad."

            "_You_ don't have to wear tights," said Harry.

            "No," said Hermione with a slight grin. "You get to do it for me."

 ~**~   

            "Well this will be interesting," said Lily, settling herself down in a chair. 

            "You are a cruel and malicious person, you know that, don't you?" asked Sirius, sitting in the chair next to her. "'Let's force two people to pretend to be in love for a play and see how they like it!' It doesn't sound like the best of plans, Lily."

            "Sod off," said Lily cheerfully. "Sometimes people just need a little push in the right direction."

            "This isn't a 'little push,' Lily," said James, sitting on her other side. "This is a 'flying leap off of a forty foot high cliff' in the right direction."

            "Try a six foot high balcony," said Remus, sitting next to Sirius. 

            "Well, whatever it is, it should be interesting," said Sirius. "I haven't had this much fun since James and Lily first started to notice each other."

            "Notice is not the right word," said Remus. "'Tearing each others throats out while you placed bets' would probably be better."

            "Sod off, it's starting," said Lily. 

            It was your normal, run of the mill version of Romeo and Juliet. Both Harry and Hermione played their parts impeccably, if not with actual feeling.

            "This is ok," said James. "But boring. No chemistry at all. Lils, I think you were wrong on this one."

            "Just you wait," said Lily with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. 

            Harry had now climbed into the tree placed next to the balcony, which was, of course, where he was supposed to be. He looked, however, very uncomfortable, and on the verge of falling off.

            "Lady, by…" he said teetering dangerously. "Lady, by yonder blessed moon…oh bugger." Hermione snickered. 

            "Harry, just lean on the balcony," she whispered, probably thinking that she wouldn't be heard. She was heard anyway.

            "I can't," Harry replied. "I'm falling out of the bloody tree and…"

            "Ahem," said Lily as loudly and obnoxiously as she could.

            "Right," said Harry, stationing himself next to the balcony, and holding on as if his life depended on it. 

            "Ahem," said James with a slight grin, as loudly and obnoxiously as he could. "I think he almost forgot the next bit of blocking," he whispered in an undertone to Sirius.

            "He better not have," said Sirius. "I've been waiting for this all day."

            "Right then," said Harry, not daring to look at Hermione. He seemed to glean some comfort in glaring at the audience in a particularly violent manner, as if trying to blame them for forcing him to this. Which, as Sirius remarked to Remus, that they were to blame, and that just made the proceedings all the more fun.

            Harry reached over the balcony, grabbed Hermione unceremoniously about the waist, and kissed her firmly on the lips. He then backed up slightly, held her at arms length for a moment, and repeated the process. Hermione was taken aback.

            "Muummmph," she said intelligently, before looping her arms around his neck.

            "No chemistry my foot," said Sirius, "either they are in love and are just oblivious, or Harry is one hell of an actor."

~**~

            "Do you think we should stop them now?" asked Lily uncertainly. "They've been going on for five minutes, and have only come up for air twice."

            "Are you kidding?" Sirius conjured up some popcorn and began munching. "This is better than the cinemas. You never get chemistry like that on screen." 

            Lily reached over to grab some of the popcorn. "But they might asphyxiate or something."

            "Nah," said James, nicking some popcorn as well, and getting a slap upside the head for his trouble from Sirius.

            "He's in a tree, she's on a balcony," said Remus reasonably. "They're trying to get as close to each other as possible. They'll get uncomfortable, and Hermione will remember she has a line. No one will asphyxiate."

            "We're heading on ten minutes," said Sirius, glancing at his watch.

            "Five galleons says they make it to fifteen," said James, grabbing more popcorn.

            "Hands off," said Sirius, slapping the said appendage as James reached for more. "Go conjure your own."

~**~

            "Ouch, um, Harry?" said Hermione, her arms still around his neck.

            "Hmm?"

            "My circulation is being cut off from the waist down, and I think I'm going to have the imprint of this bloody balcony on my legs for the rest of my life."

            "Oh," said Harry awkwardly. "Right." His legs and gone numb as well. "Hmm." Without preamble, he scrambled over the balcony wall. "Better?"

            "Much."

~**~

            "Fifteen minutes," said James, glancing at his watch. "Hah. You owe me five galleons."

            "I do not," said Sirius amiably. "There was thirty seconds when Harry was climbing over the wall." James glanced at the second hand of his watch.

            "Hah," he said again. "You owe me five galleons. Pay up you barmy old codger." 

            "I'm not old," said Sirius handing over the money grouchily.

            "You're ancient compared to me," James pointed out gleefully, narrowly avoiding Sirius' fist.

~**~

            "You know," said Hermione conversationally. "Ron has only broken up with me two days ago. He's going to kill us."

            "And Ron would know because why?" Asked Harry.

            "Point taken," said Hermione.

~**~

            "It's been twenty minutes," said Lily grouchily. "This is getting boring."

            "This _was_ your plan," said James.

            "I didn't think it would work this well," said Lily.

            "Nice prediction, Moony," said Sirius. "I don't see any line remembering here."

            "I never claimed to be a diviner," Remus protested mildly. "And I was half right. They did get uncomfortable."

            "Well, now what do we do?" asked Lily.

            "I could make loud, annoying, snide remarks," Sirius suggested brightly.

            Actually…" James looked at Sirius, considering. Sirius glowed in triumph.

            "Where's my wand?"

~**~

            A loud wolf-whistle pierced the silent air of the theatre. An impossibly loud wolf whistle. To loud for any normal person to create on their own. Bugger. Harry looked up. Sirius sat in the front row and centre, with a smile that Harry thought ought to be fined. Sirius emitted another whistle, impossibly combined with a smirk.

            "Nice one, Harry!" Sirius called, adding yet one more whistle for good measure. "You broke my record! A twenty minute snog! Incredible!" 

            Hermione turned a becoming shade of scarlet. She stepped away from Harry, wiping her hands on her dress with quick, nervous movements.

            "And you, Hermione," said Sirius, contributing to her embarrassment, "I never knew you had it in you! That was incredible! Amazing! How did you manage to live with such a small amount of air for so long? You've got the stamina of a whale!" 

            A whale? Somewhere in Harry's extremely confused and embarrassed thoughts he had time to feel indignant. He's comparing Hermione to a _whale_?  

            "Your father got five galleons from me for that little stunt," said Sirius unhappily. "You know, Harry, we  were always sure you weren't gay, it's not like you had to prove anything…"

            What was I thinking? Thought Harry. Twenty minutes? _Hermione_? Ron would kill him.

            "Um, Sirius," said Harry tightly, cutting off the flow of words. "Could we get on with the scene please?"

            "Well, that's what I was _trying_ to tell you," said Sirius petulantly. "But are you sure that's wise? I don't know if we should keep you two in the same room together…"

            Which, of course, made both of them back up against the two opposite walls, trying to get as far away from the other as possible. 

            "But don't let me hinder you," said Sirius with a grin. "Carry on."

            "Oh swear not by the moon," said Hermione, as stiff as cardboard. "The inconsistent moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest thy love prove likewise variable." 

            Harry was, if possible, more deadpan than she. "What shall I swear by, then?" 

            "Oh, this won't do at all," said James. "Sirius, you embarrassed them into bad acting!"

            "How was I to know?" asked Sirius, indignantly, having just turned the sonorous charm off.

            "Now we'll just have to endure all the bad acting until they get comfortable again," said Remus. 

            "You should have known, Sirius," said Lily, glaring at the offender. "You did the same thing to James and I. It took him an extra month before he worked up the nerve to ask me out."

            "I guess history repeats itself," said Sirius grinning. He stopped when he got showered with a bowl of cold popcorn.

~**~

            "Don't ever let Sirius do that again," said Harry. James grinned. 

            "Why not?" he asked.

            "You know perfectly well why not," said Harry. "It was embarrassing. Very embarrassing." 

            "By all accounts this conversation should be very embarrassing," said James. "And apparently it's not. Why?"

            "Because you're eighteen and Sirius is thirty something or other," said Harry. "Talking to you is like talking to Ron."

            "Well this is a first," said James. "Having a dad compared to your best friend…"

            "Sod off," said Harry with a grin, opening the door. "It's really not…" Draco Malfoy was sitting in the doorway, smirking, and appearing to be quite pleased with himself.           

            "Twenty minutes, eh, Potter," he said grinning. "I…" he stopped dead, and stared from Harry to James and back again. "Wait…you're…I…" He said intelligently.

            He fainted promptly afterward.

~**~

A/N: Ohhh…fun. Lots of fun. And more fun later. What will Malfoy do once he wakes up? Find out…next.


	31. Of Harry doing something very stupid

Dedication: In loving memory of Kylie, aka Shaniqua Sparkle. Kylie, you're my hero, and this story's for you. I love you.

_This is not at all how,_

_We thought it was supposed to be,_

_We had so many plans for you,_

_We had so many dreams,_

_And now you've gone away,_

_And left us with memories of your smile,_

_And nothing we can say,_

_And nothing we can do,_

_Can take away the pain,_

_The pain of losing you._

_We can cry with hope, _

_We can say goodbye with hope,_

_Cause we know our goodbye is not the end, oh no,_

_And we can grieve with hope,_

_Cause we believe with hope,_

_That there's a place by God's grace,_

_There's a place where we'll see your face again,_

_We'll see your face again._

_And I have never known,_

_Anything so hard to understand,_

_And never have I questioned more,_

_The wisdom of God's plan_

_But through the cloud of tears,_

_I see your father's smile and say well done,_

_And I imagine you,_

_Where you wanted most to be_

_Seeing all your dreams come true,_

_Cause now you're home,_

_And now you're free._

_~**~_

            "I didn't faint," said Draco Malfoy indignantly. "I never faint. Malfoy's don't faint. I've never fainted in my life."

            "Right," said Harry. "You were perfectly conscious as I had to haul you up to the hospital wing, when you didn't move and your eyes were closed."

            "Of course," said Malfoy calmly. "I was just resting my eyes. Now let me out of this bed, I want to…"

            "No," said Harry. "Not until Professor Dumbledore comes in."

            "I don't care about Professor Dumbledore, I don't want him in here, I never fainted and further more, if I don't get out of this bed I'll…"

            "You'll what?" said Harry.

            "Do something that neither you nor I will enjoy very much," finished Draco. "Now let me out…"

            The door opened.

            "Mr Malfoy," said Professor Dumbledore. "May I present to you Lily and James…oh dear. I believe that Mr Malfoy has just lost consciousness again."

            "Oh no he didn't," said Harry cheerfully. "He's just resting his eyes."

~**~

            "James and Lily," said Dumbledore. "I heard that we have a most serious problem on our hands."

            "It was my fault, Professor, sir," said James. "I was talking to Harry, and I walked out the door without really thinking, and that Malfoy boy was sitting right there listening to every word and I couldn't…"

            "Yes, I realise that," said Dumbledore. "That is not the problem. The problem is that we have an unconscious boy in the hospital who could bring to ruin the world as we know it."

            "But Professor, one boy…"

            "Whose father is a Death eater," said Dumbledore, "and is well known to Lord Voldemort. The question is, do we trust him with this secret, or put a memory charm on him?"

            "Memory charm," said Lily with finality. 

            "What would be the point of trusting him?" asked James.

            "There are several very good points," said Dumbledore. "Because, if we made him feel important, and trained him as well, he would keep it. And it would be one more powerful wizard for our side. And, if I am not very much mistaken, he and Harry have formed some sort of bond when they were forced together for three days, and he would not be as adverse to this suggestion as he would usually be. Finally, he would be one less Death eater to contend with." 

            "What makes you think he would keep a secret as large as this one?" asked James.

            "Mr Malfoy is as honest as his father is not," said Dumbledore. "If you made him promise, he would not lie to you."

            "He's a Slytherin," said Lily sceptically.

            "But an exceptional one," said Dumbledore. 

            "Alright," said James. "So we tell him."

            "Good." Said Dumbledore. "There's one more thing before you go down and meet Draco." He suddenly looked very sober.

            "What," said Lily.

            "I have to tell you, Ms Grangers parents died today. They were attacked by Lord Voldemort."

~**~

            Hermione knew that she probably shouldn't have been listening at the door. In fact, she was quite sure she should not be listening at the door. After all, listening at the doors was very ill mannered and not at all like model students were supposed to behave. But she was quite curious about Draco's fate, and she figured that Ron and Harry had corrupted her enough to give her a valid excuse. 

"But Professor, one boy…"

            Bugger. She had gotten there too late. Well, she could still hear most of it.

            "Whose father is a Death eater," said Dumbledore, "and is well known to Lord Voldemort. The question is, do we trust him with this secret, or put a memory charm on him?"

            _Memory charm_, thought Hermione.

            "Memory charm," said Lily with finality. 

            _Well there's a coincidence._

            "What would be the point of trusting him?" asked James.

            "There are several very good points," said Dumbledore. "Because, if we made him feel important, and trained him as well, he would keep it. And it would be one more powerful wizard for our side. And, if I am not very much mistaken, he and Harry have formed some sort of bond when they were forced together for three days, and he would not be as adverse to this suggestion as he would usually be. Finally, he would be one less Death eater to contend with." 

            "What makes you think he would keep a secret as large as this one?" asked James.

            "Mr Malfoy is as honest as his father is not," said Dumbledore. "If you made him promise, he would not lie to you."

            _Malfoy doesn't lie? What?_ Thought Hermione. _What about the whole Rita Skeeter thing? Unless Malfoy got all his little minions of doom to do the lying for him. That would make sense. He is a Slytherin, after all._

            "He's a Slytherin," said Lily sceptically.

            _Hah. Lily and I are going two for two in the thought processes today._

            "But an exceptional one," said Dumbledore. 

            _Exceptional? And I'm Queen Elizabeth._

            "Alright," said James. "So we tell him."

            "Good." Said Dumbledore. "There's one more thing before you go down and meet Draco." 

"What," said Lily.

            "I have to tell you, Ms Grangers parents died today. They were attacked by Lord Voldemort."

_WHAT?_ Whatever Hermione had expected to hear, it wasn't that. It took about five seconds for what she heard to sink in. The shuffling noise of chairs brought her back to her senses. She ran.

Her thoughts were incoherent and tripping over themselves. _If my life were a book_, she thought bemusedly, _I'd be running to some cheesy spot that I had played in when I was a little girl. Or straight into the arms of some romantic hero waiting to comfort me._ She rushed past several people, knocked into Professor McGonagall, sent Professor Flitwick sprawling, and kept right on going. _The people in books have it good. I knew I shouldn't have been listening at the door…_ Hermione didn't realise quite how stupid she sounded, nor would she have noticed if she said these things out loud. All she knew was she had to think of enough stupid things to keep her from thinking things that were turning her world upside down.  

She didn't know where she was going, or how she would get there. All that she knew was that if she didn't get out of Hogwarts she would be violently sick.

~**~

            "You're just going to allow Malfoy to join us?" asked Harry incredulously. "Just completely let him join us. May I remind you that his father was one of the Death eaters that joined Voldemort when he rose again? Remember that? I know that this is just a small detail, but what if Malfoy lets it slip that you are here and Voldemort kills you now? What will happen then? Voldemort won't need to rise again because you will already be dead and he'll have taken over the world!"

            "Harry, calm down," said James. "We just thought that…"

            "I'm not listening to this rubbish," said Harry. "You trust Malfoy with this secret, but not _Ron_ of all people…"

            "Harry listen…" started Lily.

            "Bugger to that," said Harry. He walked out the door. And ran right into Hermione.

~**~

            "Hermione, what is it?" Harry grabbed her arm. She tried to yank it out of his reach, sobbing, "Let me go." Harry's fingers closed around her wrists with a bruising force Hermione hadn't thought possible from him.

            "Tell me," he said urgently. The pain from her wrists cleared her head slightly.

            "You don't know yet, Harry?" she whispered savagely. "I thought the whole world would by now."

            "Know what?" said Harry. "Hermione, know _what?_ Tell me."

            "It's my parents. They're…it's quite simple, really. It happens to everybody I suppose, but it couldn't happen to Mum and Dad, they're muggles and…" Harry shook her gently. She stopped babbling and choked the words out. "They're dead, Harry. They're dead."

            She tore herself away from him, and ran again, fighting hysteria, not knowing where she was at the moment or where she was going, just knowing that she had to go somewhere, or else go mad.

~**~

            "Oh bugger," Harry whispered. He raced after her, lacking her frantic energy, but making up for it in determination. He followed Hermione out the doors and across the grounds, slogging through the deep snow and muttering obstinacies under his breath. Hermione was ahead of him, her hair white with the falling snow, which was lying out behind her like a grisly surrender flag. It was then that Harry realised where she was going. 

            "Oh God…" he muttered, trying to move faster, but finding it impossible. Hermione continued to run, heading straight for the lake. She reached the water's edge and collapsed. Harry caught her up, and sat down next to her, panting. Hermione was sitting curled in a ball, her chin on her knees, apparently not able to run anymore. Harry was privately thankful for that; he wasn't sure if he could, either.

            "Are you alright?" He asked. Not exactly eloquent, perhaps, and he could just hear what Malfoy would say about it later, but at the moment, it really didn't seem to matter. Hermione made a small snuffling noise that could have been crying. Harry reached out an awkward hand to her back, thought the better of it, and withdrew. Hermione looked up. She was no longer hysterical, but she had the odd, dazed, look  of someone who had had a nightmare, and woke up to find it true. 

            "This is all my fault," said Harry, putting his head in his hands.

            "What's the point?" asked Hermione drearily. "He's going to kill everybody, isn't he? He's going to go along, and just keep killing, until he gets to you. Cedric, Cho, now my parents." She looked down again.

            "Who's next?" she began to cry a little. "Sirius? Remus? Ron? Me? You? It's all a big game to him Spin the wheel of death, see what will make Harry Potter crack! The winner gets…world domination! It's like a television show." The crying became wracking sobs, making her shake.

            "No, Hermione," started Harry, but she cut him off. 

            "My mother and father are dead, Harry," she said flatly. "Voldemort killed them. And he'll never stop until he gets to you. Until you join him, or he kills you. What's the point? Why bother fighting? The ending will always be the same. Death and destruction, death and destruction, it's a vicious cycle. So what is there to be gained by refusing him?"

            "What is there to be gained by refusing the most evil wizard who ever lived?" said Harry, quoting Sirius gently. "Only innocent lives, Hermione."

            "Well all this training didn't seem to help my parents much, did it?" retorted Hermione bitterly. "And no, I don't want to be hugged, so don't even try."

            _Bugger._

            "I'm really sorry, Hermione," he muttered, looking at his feet. "This is all my fault and I…I'm so sorry."

            "An exaggerated sense of responsibility means an extermely large ego," said Hermione. "It wasn't your fault. So stop trying to make it your fault."

            "When I saw you come down here, I thought that you were going to drown yourself," he said. "You gave me the worst fright of my life."

            "Why would I do anything that insensible?" demanded Hermione. "I'm the only thing that has kept you alive for five years and you know it. And actually…I lied, I wouldn't mind a hug if you don't mind."

            Harry grinned to himself. That suited him just fine. He was glad that she wasn't about to throw herself in the lake and knew that he was being extremely condescending, even though he was trying not to be. If there was one thing that Hermione hated, it was being treated like a child. Well, he knew well enough that she was not a child and…and…and…oh dear…his thoughts were getting dreadfully muddled, and the close proximity between them was not helping matters. 

            "Look at me, Hermione," he said firmly. "You are not going to die anytime soon. I won't let Voldemort hurt you anymore than he already did, and he will definitely die if he comes within a radius of two hundred metres from me. I will keep you alive even if it means that the world comes crashing down about our ears and…"

            "Harry, you sound really stupid," she said. "I'm in this to keep _you _alive and I'd jump in that lake right now if it would keep you safe."

            "My safety doesn't worry me," said Harry lightly. "Not at the moment, anyway."

            "It's that mentality that has kept me awake at night for the past five years," said Hermione, beginning to push away from him, and then thinking the better of it.

            "And it's a good thing, too," said Harry, with a small smile on his face. "Or else the boy who lived would be the boy who's dead."

            "Now _there's_ a catchy title," said Draco.

            Harry and Hermione quickly let go of each other a whipped around.

            "You two don't have very good luck getting each other alone, do you?" He said with a smirk. "Maybe if you weren't so thick-headed as to stand out in the middle of public grounds…but, whatever suits your taste…" he smirked even more. "I, personally, prefer a cosy room complete with a locking doors and several house elves providing drinks…" 

"Well, most people prefer snogging an actual person, not the house elves," said Harry with a grin. "Besides, we weren't snogging." 

Draco snorted. "Right," he said. "And Voldemort just founded a Save the Starving Armenian Muggle Foundation." 

"Well that's lovely," said Harry in mock-cheerfulness. "Let's hope he gets canonized!"   

"You can only get canonized when you're dead, Potter," said Draco. 

"Exactly," said Harry. "Now trot along…we're busy." 

            "I should think that would be obvious," said Draco with a smirk, as he began to walk away. He turned back again.

            "Oh...Potter. Your…em…parents," he blenched a little, "want to see you. And Hermione as well."

            "Alright then," said Harry. He turned to Hermione. "Do you want to go up?"

            "I'm alright, if that's what you mean," she said with a strained smile.

            "I'm really sorry," he said again. "I know what it's like to not have parents."

            "Yes," she said softly. "But yours came back."

            With that, she began to walk up the hill to the castle, leaving Harry awkward and speechless in the snow.

            "I'll kill him," he said, watching her. "I'm honestly going to kill him."

~**~

            "Hermione, I don't want to be the one to tell you this," said James softly. "But Lord Voldemort…"

            "I already know," said Hermione. "I would appreciate you not telling me again."

            "You do?" said James blankly. "But…"

            "I heard you. I was listening at the door," said Hermione. 

            "I'm sorry," said James. "I wouldn't want you to hear it that way."

            "I wouldn't want to hear it at all," said Hermione. "The way I hear it doesn't really matter."

            "I…"

            "I'm tired," said Hermione. "I'm going to bed."

            "Goodnight, Hermione," said James. Hermione didn't answer. She turned and walked out of the classroom.

~**~

            Harry stood outside Hermione's door, debating whether or not to go in. Thinking to himself about how Ron would laugh if he heard how clichéd his internal debate was, strengthened his resolve. He tiptoed in, put a piece of parchment, by her bedside, and tiptoed out again. He grabbed his broom cloak and wand, and carefully opened the window in his dormitory, praying that he wouldn't wake up his father. James gave a snort and rolled over. Feeling that it wouldn't be the brightest thing that he'd ever done to fly out the window, Harry swung one leg out. He pulled the other through the open window, and, sitting on the sill, hopped on to his broom. Feeling extremely foolish, and glad that no body was there to witness the performance, he flew quietly away. What he didn't know was that there was somebody to watch his antics. 

            "You'd better hope she follows you fast enough, mate," said Ron, watching Harry fly towards the moon. "Because if she doesn't, this will be the stupidest thing you've ever done."   
  


~**~

A/N: Harry Potter movie was great! 

  
            


	32. Of Voldemort

A/N: I'm sure that you have figured out that Harry is quite possibly the most stupid person in the world at the moment and/or is completely cheesy and caught up in sad romantic notions. I can assure you he is all of that. And probably more. 

Disclaimer: You know, I really do hate disclaimers. They're very annoying.

Dedication: Everything is in memory of Kylie, a wonderful person, an even better friend, who shouldn't have died so soon. But she'll make an even better angel.

~**~

_It's my life,_

_And it's now or never,_

_I ain't gonna live forever,_

_I'm just gonna live while I'm alive,_

_'Cause it's my life._

_~"It's my Life," Jon Bon Jovi_

~**~

            "How is he even going to find him?" James demanded. "It's not like he's going to stand out in the middle of a field and yell, 'HEY VOLDEMORT! I'M HARRY POTTER! COME FORTH AND DO BATTLE!'"

            "I don't know, that technique might do well," said Dumbledore gravely. "But the fact of the matter is, Harry is gone, and neither of you an go and save him."

            "He is fifteen years old," said Lily angrily. "He's just a kid. And he's my kid, to make matters worse. He's not even trained all the way. You expect us to sit here and not go after him…"

            "Do you know the consequences if you are seen?" said Dumbledore quietly. "Or even if you are killed? The world as we know it would shut down. Lily, you must face facts. _You must not go after Harry._"

            "What about Sirius," said Lily desperately. "Or Remus. Or somebody!"

            "They are too well known," said Dumbledore. "Sirius is a convicted murderer. Remus was an auror. How do you expect them to go out and infiltrate a Dark Arts meeting when nobody knows where it is, and everybody knows their face?"

            "So we can't do _anything_?" Asked Lily incredulously. "We just have to sit here and wait…"

            "Yes," said Dumbledore firmly.

            "He's our _child_," said James. "Even if he is only three years younger than us at the moment. We can't just sit here. I'm going to have to…"

            "You are not going anywhere," said Dumbledore. "And neither is Lily, and neither are Sirius or Remus. And the doors, windows, and portrait holes are making sure of that. We don't know where Harry is. We don't even know if he was going to find Voldemort. He could have just decided to take a holiday to Hogsmeade."

            "Not without Hermione," Lily muttered.

            "And Hermione is not missing, correct?" asked Dumbledore.

            "She was sleeping," said Lily. "James noticed Harry was gone when he woke up. I decided not to wake Hermione up until I have to, she'll worry herself sick."

            "Well," said Dumbledore. "Let her sleep. Finish lesson plans for tomorrow, all four of you, but you are not under any circumstances, invisibility cloaks or otherwise, to leave the castles. The doors and windows will not allow you to."

            Lily and James, recognising this as their cue to leave, stormed out of the room in a huff. They nearly bumped into a Hobbit on their way out. 

            "Hello," it said. "Can I speak to the Professor now?"

            "Sure, he's in there, Ad," said James grumpily. "He won't let us out of the building, so you better be careful to have an escape route."

            Then he stormed off down the hallway, Lily at his side, with the Hobbit looking curiously at them.

~**~

            "I don't even know where he could find Voldemort," said Lily, pacing the floor. 

            "Oh he could find him, alright," said Hermione. "It's in that book, _Pages of Mages Through the Ages._ Voldemort is a mage. It had a whole chapter on him. Told about how he raised the dead at every quarter moon at…well, I'm not going to tell you where. But it was to summon up teellihores…you know, those things that Remus told us about that the Dark Lord used in his army. It's the quarter moon tonight. Don't bother looking for the book, I've already torn the page out."

            "What are you doing?" said Lily, aghast. Hermione looked up. 

            "Packing," she said shortly. She began stuffing articles of clothing into a bag with grim determination.

            "What?"

            "I'm going to find Harry," she said, picking up her wand and stuffing it in the bag as well. "And don't bother trying to stop me, because I won't let you."

            "You can't," said Lily dully. "Dumbledore forbid all of us to follow him. Normally that wouldn't stop me, but all the doors and windows recognise if one of us tries to get out." She went to the window, and attempted to open it. It magically fastened the lock, and apparently wouldn't budge, whatever spell Lily used on it.

            "He didn't forbid me," said Hermione.

            "You weren't listening by the door again, were you?" said Lily suspiciously.

            "No," said Hermione. "Look." she went to the window, and opened it easily. When Lily walked over to the window, it shut tight again. "Besides, Harry left me a note."

            "May I see it?" asked Lily.

            "No," said Hermione shortly. "It's gone. I can't find it. I think it was one of those things that can self-destruct."

            "But, you're not even a mage," said Lily helplessly. "How could you…" Hermione motioned for Harry's invisibility cloak, which had been on the floor, to fold it's self neatly and tuck it's self into the pocket of her bag.

            "I am a mage," she said quietly. "Harry didn't want me to tell anyone because he thought it would put me in danger. As if I'm not in enough danger, being Harry Potter's best friend. He's been training me. Two half trained mages are better than one, aren't they?" 

            "You still can't go, Hermione," said Lily angrily. "Voldemort would kill you if he had the chance. Have you no self preservation in you at all?"

            Hermione looked up, her eyes burning. 

            "No," she said suddenly, giving a wry laugh. "I don't. None at all. I can't afford that. Not where Harry's concerned." Lily grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and looked at her.

            "You really love my son, don't you?" she asked quietly. Hermione nodded. "And you'd do anything for him, wouldn't you?" She nodded again.

            "Take my broom, and use the invisibility cloak," said Lily. "Go after him. You're the only chance he's got."

~**~

            Harry knew where the Brookfield cemetery was. It was a small, quiet, rather out of the way place, right near the town of Chipping Sodbury. The least likely place that anything unnatural could happen.

            The problem was, that very unnatural things happened there.

            The very reason that it was so odd and unnatural, was that a mix of wizards and muggles were buried there. It was said to be the site where Stonehenge was laid to rest by Merlin for a few weeks, before Merlin decided that Stonehenge really did not suit that particular part of the country, and that he should do the redecorating elsewhere.

            In other words, the place was teeming with magic.

            It was the only place in the world where wizarding and muggle worlds were closely intertwined.

            Perhaps that was the reason why Voldemort chose such a spot to raise the dead. Harry knew he wouldn't have long to wait. Perhaps an hour or two. It got dark quite early now, right before Christmas, and he knew as soon as the quarter moon showed through the clouds Voldemort would materialise and raise dead to wreak havoc upon the wizarding and muggle worlds alike. Harry knew he couldn't let that happen. Not again.

            So he checked into a small muggle inn, using money which he had withdrawn and exchanged from his Gringotts account, and sat down to wait. 

            It was the longest two hours of his life.

~**~

            Hermione normally hated flying. She was afraid of heights, and afraid to put her weight on a very small, very slippery piece of wood. She never did know how Harry talked her into getting onto that bloody hippogriff in third year. But Harry could talk her into a lot of things that she wouldn't have done otherwise. Directly or indirectly. Take now, for instance. If he hadn't had the sudden urge to run off and head over to a cemetery that they had just visited, to bury her parents, she would not be on this very precarious stick of wood two thousand metres over London, covered in an invisibility cloak, and preparing to meet a dark lord; half trained, not prepared, with only two hours left to find Harry, and when she was only fifteen.

            She reminded herself to kill Harry if they lived through this.

~**~

            Harry wasn't exactly sure how to approach Voldemort. He tied his shoes, and tried to figure out that particular problem. It's not like he could exactly get anywhere near him… not with the Death eaters around…not near enough to challenge him to a duel. Oh he was being stupid. He knew it too. But it wasn't that stupid, when you really thought about it. He was putting everybody's lives on the line, he knew that now. And Hermione was probably the next one in line…

            He had no other choice. It was either Harry Potter or Voldemort. If he died, Hermione would be safe. If Voldemort died, Hermione would be safe. It was really the only way. 

            How to present himself to Voldemort was another problem. It wasn't exactly like he could yell, "stand forth and do battle, thou yellow-bellied coward!" If only there was a way to get out of it alive…

            Harry still didn't know what to do where the two hours were up. He put on his cloak, and walked out the door.

~**~

            Hermione waited. It was the longest period of waiting that she had ever had. She kept the invisibility cloak on, stashed the bag and broom behind a tree, and waited.

            There was one slight problem.

            The moon was out, but no one was there. Not one single Death eater. Then suddenly, a solitary figure appeared. Voldemort. Hermione knew it now. She shivered, and tried to remain as quiet as she could…but she was quite sure that Voldemort could hear her heart pounding. She had never been this afraid in her life. Not even when she had to leave Harry behind to face Quirrell. Not even when she thought Sirius was a mass murderer, and was locked in the Whomping Willow with him. 

            Not even when she thought it was Harry who was dead last year, not Cedric Diggory. Or when she thought that Harry had died falling off his broomstick. Or when she thought that Harry…

            Come to think of it, Harry nearly died almost every year. Why would this year be any different? 

            Voldemort was doing something now, Hermione couldn't tell what, because he had his back turned to her. 

            This year would be different. Because if Harry was going to do what she thought he was going to do, he probably would die. And she wouldn't be able to save him. Another figure appeared. And that figure's appearance frightened her more than Voldemort.

            It was Harry.

~**~

            "Hello, Harry," Voldemort smiled. It was a grim, frightening smile, a travesty of a smile. It really couldn't be called a smile at all, rather like a frown that somehow went backwards. "I've been expecting you."

            "You…you…have?" All of Harry's composure was gone, replaced by fear. Where were all the Death eaters.

            "Oh yes," said Voldemort, smiling all the more. "Your charming little epistle told me exactly what I needed to know." He held up the parchment that Harry had left on Hermione's bedside.

            "How did you get that?" asked Harry. "You can't get inside Hogwarts, Dumbledore would never let you…" _That's right, Potter, provoke the only person in the world who can kill you with magic…_

            Voldemort, fortunately, did not seem provoked. In fact, he smiled even more, showing all of his teeth.

            "I cannot get inside Hogwarts," said Voldemort. "But I have someone who can. Charming really," he held up the parchment. "If I were one for Romance novels, I'd say that this was a quality piece of literature."

            "If you knew I was coming, why didn't you just kill me when you had the chance?" Harry asked.

            "Oh it takes the thrill of the chase out," said Voldemort. "I have decided that killing you magically would just deteriorate from my enjoyment. So I found people who will do it for me. Kill you, I mean."

            Figures moved out behind him. The figures were rotted, falling apart, but had enough brains and strength to strangle a person. Perhaps they had more strength, super human strength, because Voldemort raised them. The figures, given orders to kill, which they could not disobey, were people that Harry had once known. With human countenances, and human souls. It was Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, and Hermione's parents. 

~**~

A/N: More later…I don't have enough time to finish this right now…


	33. Of endings and beginnings

A/N: This fic has hit it's one year anniversary! YAY! Interesting, isn't it, that at almost exactly a year, is when I finish it. So, folks, the final instalment of Subject To Change. Look for it's sequel, Change to Subject, soon.

Dedication: For the gaudy's. They stuck by me in the hard times, the sad times, the times when I was so happy they must have wanted to hit me, the times when I was so sad they must have wanted to hit me, the times when they just wanted to hit me for no apparent reason…

Disclaimer: All proceeds go to the Harry Potter fund.  Because that boy will need therapy after all I've put him through. Additional proceeds will go to the Hermione Granger fund, the Ron Weasley fund, The Lily and James Potter fund, the Remus Lupin fund, the Sirius Black fund, the Draco Malfoy fund, and the Albus Dumbledore fund. For pretty much the same reason. Note to J.K. Rowling: I'm sorry that your characters will all have some sort of physiological disorder once I've finished with them. If you really need someone to sue, blame it all on my twisted mind. And my friends that all have twisted minds…

~**~

_Another turning point,_

_ a fork stuck in the road,_

_Time grabs you by the wrist,_

_ directs you where to go,_

_So make the best of this test_

_ and don't ask why,_

_It's not a question,_

_ but a lesson learned in time,_

_It's something unpredictable,_

_ but in the end it's right,_

_I hope you had the time of your life._

~**~

            Harry couldn't move. He felt as though some sort of leg locker curse had rooted him to the spot and forced him to stay where he was. Wave upon wave of guilt pooled from his thoughts. 

These were the people that he had killed. He had brought death upon them. They should have had families, lives, they should have fallen in love, gotten married, been successful. The Grangers would never see their daughter graduate, or get married, or see their first grandchild.

He couldn't fight them. He couldn't. He had murdered these people. He had ruined their lives. He deserved whatever they did to him. They should kill him. They had every right to. He had killed them. 

              He watched numbly as Voldemort grinned maliciously. 

            "Enjoy yourself," he said. "For there will be more where they came from. I am giving you a chance to run, Harry. But they will hunt you unmercifully. I'm giving you a chance to defend yourself. But, in order to do that," here he smiled again, that horrible travesty of a smile, "you have to commit _murder_. Because they know what they are doing, Harry Potter. They can't stop themselves. But they can feel pain. And they can feel hurt. _And they will know that you are killing them._" And then, he was gone. Just gone. 

            Harry knew he couldn't do it. So he stood, frozen to the spot, with certain death only a few metres away.

~**~

            Fortunately, Hermione was only a few metres away as well. Now she ran, throwing the invisibility cloak away, knowing that she had to reach her parents before Harry obliterated them. Because that's what he did, she knew it. If something was evil that stood in his way, it would have to go. His instinct for survival was what dominated his thoughts in times of crisis. She knew that too. It was all part of Harry, she couldn't be angry with him for it, it was just the way he was. But she knew she had to stop him. That was…until…

            Harry stood frozen. He made no move to get his wand, did not even reach up a hand to defend himself. That's when she saw it. He _wanted_ them to kill him. _Wanted_ it. She could've killed him right then and there. After all the work she did trying to keep him alive, and now he's going all suicidal on her…the nerve.

            "Hermione, darling…Help us, please." It wasn't Harry's plea for help, but one coming from her parents. They were compulsively moving toward Harry, unable to stop themselves, Cedric and Cho at their heels. 

            "You can't let us kill him," said Cedric, his voice rusty from being dead for a year. "Hermione, he'll just stand there and let us rip him apart. You can't let us."

            "But…I can't," Hermione said helplessly, now faced with the very same dilemma that Harry was. "I can't kill _you_, murdering my own parents…"

            Harry had finally noticed that there was a conversation going on.

            "Hermione, what are you doing here?" He said.

            "Please, Hermione," said her mum desperately. "Please. Just blast us to pieces. We'll go to a better place. But you don't know how terrible it is to be killing somebody when you can't help it. And we _have_ to. Don't you understand? We _have to._" 

            "You'll be killed," said Harry. "Go away. Go back. I told you not to come!"

            "Hermione, it's alright. We've got people waiting for us. My grandmother is waiting for me," said Cedric. 

            "And so is my mum, just like we'll be waiting for you, once we're gone." said Mr Granger. "If you loved us at all, you would stop us. If you loved _him_ at all, you would stop us."  
 

            They were all crowded around Harry now. Cedric had his hands around his neck. Harry's face had taken on a bluish tinge. But he still stood there, not defending himself.

            "I love you, mum and dad," said Hermione quietly. "I never got to tell you before you died. I love you." And then she took out her wand.

~**~

            The whirlwind charm was strong, strong enough to blow already deteriorating bodies to pieces, and Harry and Hermione to the ground. Hermione lay there, not bothering to get up, not even wanting to. When she finally looked up, she noticed that Harry stood next to her. He gave her his hand, and helped her up.

            "You were brilliant, Hermione," he croaked, as if Cedric's hands had damaged his vocal cords permanently. "I couldn't have done it without you…I would have…"

            Hermione didn't bother wasting words. Feeling that she should get the point straight across, she slapped him.

            "Don't you _ever_ do anything that stupid again," she hissed. "Running off to fight Voldemort without telling anyone! Rubbish!"

            Harry was momentarily struck dumb.

  
            "But…Bugger it, Hermione, I wrote you that bloody letter!"

            "Telling me what?" she demanded. "That you loved me and you were sorry you were dead?"

            "Yes, well, what about you?" He retorted. "Coming down here, you could have been killed!"

            "I wasn't the one who was wearing Cedric Diggory's hands like a noose," said Hermione, sarcasm pooling around her words.

            "I was trying to keep you from getting hurt!" said Harry. "If I died, Voldemort wouldn't bother killing you, if I killed Voldemort, he'd be dead so he couldn't kill you…it was a win-win situation, Hermione." 

            "For _you_ maybe," said Hermione. "You're so selfish!"

            "I'm selfish!" said Harry. "I was trying to protect you!"

            "And _that's_ selfish too! If you died, you'd be happy, you'd be with all your dead relatives, and I'd be stuck here without…." She gave herself a very hard mental kick, and changed the direction of her tirade. It was moving into sappy very fast, and she was still quite angry with him.

            "And that _note_ you wrote, that was just a _disgusting display of egotism._ 'Oh, woe betide, I'm hurting everybody I love, it's all my fault, it's always my fault, I need to leave, don't follow me.' Honestly. How stupid do you think I am? Do you think I wouldn't figure out that you were going after Voldemort? Do you think I'm a docile little female who will do as she's told? Not when your life is on the line, Harry Potter."

            "Now who's the selfish one!" said Harry irrationally. "You'd put _your_ life on to help me!"

            "That's right," said Hermione scathingly. "And I do it again in a minute."

            "You would not!" said Harry.

            Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Would you like me to prove it? Dumbledore has a time turner. I can do it again."

            "You wouldn't dare," said Harry.

            "Try and stop me," said Hermione.  
  


            They stared at each other for a moment.

            "Fine. I will." Said Harry.

            "I'd like to see you try," said Hermione, turning her back to him, and beginning to walk away. Harry followed her, caught her up, grabbed her by her shoulders and kissed her hard.

            "There," he said. "I told you I could stop you."

            "Don't make me slap you again," Hermione grinned. "Now come on, before Voldemort brings more little minions of doom that are after your blood."

~**~

            Christmas was a resting, relaxing time. Hermione, Harry, and Ron sat in front of the common room fire, contentedly eating peppermint toads and play wizard's chess. Harry was, yet again, losing spectacularly to Ron.

            "I can't believe _Malfoy_ gets to be trained as well," said Ron, sighing slightly and taking Harry's queen. "When will it be my turn?"

            "I dunno," said Harry, grabbing another peppermint toad. "I hope soon, though, because I dunno if I can take just Malfoy…"

            "I heard that," came a sulky voice from out of a high backed chair. "It's not my fault that _they're_ making me train with you."

            Ron glowered at him, and Harry laughed.

            "Why is _it_ still in here?" he asked.

            "Dumbledore wants him to get used to us, and us to him," said Harry.

            "Let's not play the, 'lets talk about Draco like he isn't here,' game, please," said Malfoy. "It's very distressing."

            "Wonderful," said Ron. "All the more reason to play. Why are they having _it_ train and not me?"

            "Because you're a dolt and I am brilliant?" Malfoy suggested.

            "Shove it Malfoy," said Harry. "Because he knows tons of valuable dark arts stuff."

            "Got that right," Malfoy smirked. "Valuable is the key word."

            "Like what?" Ron snarled.

            "Well, for instance, my father, whenever he goes on a muggle killing spree, bathes his temples in eau de cologne and puts on his black two thousand galleon cape from Armani wizardwear." Said Malfoy.

            "It brings a new meaning to the saying 'dressed to kill,' doesn't it?" asked Hermione brightly. "Anyway, I think it's present time. I'm in the mood for gifts."

            "And I'm in the mood to loudly pout and leave the room," said Malfoy. "I don't want to see the sappiness."

            "Trot along to your dungeon," said Harry cheerfully.

            "I'll save a few manacles just for you, Potter," said Draco, sweeping to the portrait hole.

            "Goody," said Harry. "I can't wait."

            "I'm glad he's gone," said Ron. "He's such a smarmy git…"

            "Ahem," said Hermione. "Presents. Now."

            "Why don't you start," said Harry, with a slight grin.

            "Fine, I will then," she said. She handed Ron and Harry to wrapped objects. Ron ripped his open first. 

            "A Chudley Cannons Jersey! Thanks Hermione." He pulled it on over his head. It clashed horribly with his hair.

            Harry was staring at the contents of his package in puzzlement. 

            "A…cat collar…." He said. "Um…thanks?"

            "It's so I can hear you when you go sneaking out at night," said Hermione. "I got you these, though, too." They appeared to be shiny black shoes.

            "Swing shoes," said Hermione with a slightly sadistic grin. "I hear we have to start dancing next."

            Harry groaned. "I think I'll just keep the cat collar." He handed Ron what turned out to be a book about Quiddtich, and Hermione a small box. 

            "Harry…" she said. "These were mum's…how did you get them?"

            "They're her wedding rings, right?" said Harry. "I think she slipped them into my pocket when she was trying to strangle me. But I know she wanted you to have them."

            "How?" said Hermione.

            "Because she told me," said Harry cheekily. "But she told me not to give them to you until Christmas."

            "I never really did get a good look at them," said Hermione. "Because she hardly ever wore them." The engagement ring was white gold, intricately carved, with a diamond in the very centre. The wedding ring matched it, except it had a row of smaller diamonds across it. The same saying was engraved on the inside of both. _Ever mine, Ever thine, ever for each other._

            "Thanks, Harry," said Hermione. "Thanks a lot."

            "I hate to break up this terribly touching moment," said Ron. "But I have your Christmas present. I had to get only one for both of you, but I figured you'd understand."

            "Cheapskate," said Hermione, grinning.

            "Ah well," said Ron. "Here you go."

            He pulled out two tickets. Tickets to see _Romeo and Juliet_ at the Globe theatre.

            "I figured it could be a date or something," said Ron. "You better like it, 'cause it was really hard to get especially with the muggle money and all…"

            Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

            "How did you…"

            "But we didn't tell you…"

            "We didn't really know ourselves…"

            "I dunno," said Ron, shrugging with a grin. "Maybe I'm just psychic." 

~**~

Finis.


End file.
